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1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

THE  MATE  OF 


THE  VANCOUVER 


BT 


MORLEY  ROBERTS 


AUTHOR    OP 

'•LAUD  IBAVBL  AND  8»A-FAB1NG,"  "  KINO  BILLY  OF  B^ 

KTC,   «T0. 


.VLLABAT,' 


-r  NEW   YORK 

CASSELL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
104  &  106  FouBTH  Avenue 


OOPTRIOHT,  1882,  BT 

CA88KLL  PUBLI8HINQ  COMPANY. 


Alt  rights  rtuneel. 


TH>  XBBSHOM  OOMPAKT 
RAHWAT,  N.  f. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  L 

On  Board  the  Vancouver 

PART  II. 

San  Francisco  and  Northward 


PART  III. 


A  Golden  Link 


Love  and  Hate    . 


PART  IV. 


PAOK 
1 


«7 


.    107 


145 


V                       PART  V. 
At  the  Black  CaIJon 309 


I  ! 

f'  t 

11    I 


h 


THE 


MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


Part  I. 

O^   BOARD   THE   VANCOUVER.  -  ' 

I  AM  going  to  write,  not  the  history  of  my 
life,  which,  on  the  whole,  has  been  as  quiet 
as  most  men's,  but  simply  the  story  of  about 
a  year  of  it,  which,  I  think,  will  be  almost 
as  interesting  to  other  folks  as  any  yarn  spun 
by  a  professional  novel  writer;  and  if  I  am 
wrong,  it  is  because  I  haven't  the  knowledge 
such  have  of  the  way  to  tell  a  story.  As  a 
friend  of  mine,  who  is  an  artist,  says,  I  know 
I  can't  put  in  the  foreground  properly,  but  if 
I  tell  the  simple  facts  in  my  own  way,  it  will 
be  true,  and  anything  that  is  really  true 
always  seems  to  me  to  have  a  value  of  its 


2  THE  BIATB  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 

owD,  quite  independent  of  what  the  papers 
call  "  style,"  which  a  sailor,  who  has  never 
written  much  besides  a  log  and  a  few  love- 
letters,  cannot  pretend  to  have.  That  is 
what  I  think. 


Our  family — for  somehow  it  seems  as  if  I 
must  begin  at  the  beginning — was  always 
given  to  the  sea.  There  is  a  story  that  my 
great-grandfather  was  a  pirate  or  buccaneer ; 
my  grandfather,  I  know,  was  in  the  Royal 
Navy,  and  my  father  commanded  a  China 
clipper  when  they  used  to  make,  for  those 
days,  such  fast  runs  home  with  the  new 
season's  tea.  Of  course,  with  these  examples 
before  us,  my  brother  and  I  took  the  same 
line,  and  were  apprenticed  as  soon  as  our 
mother  could  make  up  her  mind  to  part 
with  her  sons.  Will  was  six  years  older 
than  I,  and  he  was  second  mate  in  the  vessel 
in  which  I  served  my  apprenticeship;  but, 
though  we  were  brothers,  there  wasn't  much 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANOOUVEB.  1 

likeness  either  of  body  or  mind  between  us ; 
for  Will  had  a  failing  that  never  troubled 
me,  and  never  will ;  he  was  always  fond  of 
his  glass,  a  thing  I  despise  in  a  seaman,  and 
especially  in  an  officer,  who  has  so  many  lives 
to  answer  for. 

In  1881,  when  I  had  been  out  of  my  ap- 
prenticeship for  rather  more  than  four  years, 
and  had  got  to  be  mate  by  a  deal  of  hard 
work — for,  to  tell  the  tmth,  I  liked  practical 
seamanship  then  much  better  than  naviga- 
tion and  logaiithms — I  was  with  my  brother 
in  the  Vancouver,  a  bark  of  1100  tons  reg- 
ister. If  it  hadn't,  been  for  my  mother,  I 
wouldn't  have  sailed  with  Will,  but  she  was 
always  afraid  he  would  get  into  trouble 
through  drink;  for  when  he  was  at  home 
and  heard  he  was  appointed  to  the  command 
of  this  new  vessel,  he  was  carried  to  bed  a 
great  deal  the  worse  for  liquor.  So  when  he 
offered  me  the  chief  officer's  billet,  mother 
persuaded  me  to  take  it. 


4  THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 

"  You  mu8t,  Tom,"  she  said  ;  "  for  my  sake, 
do.  You  can  look  after  him,  and  perhaps 
shield  him  if  anything  happens,  for  I  am  in 
fear  all  the  time  when  he  is  away,  but  if  you 
were  with  him  I  should  be  more  at  ease ;  for 
you  are  so  steady,  Tom." 

I  wasn't  so  steady  a?  she  thought,  I  dare 
say,  but  still  I  didn't  drink,  and  that  was 
something.  Anyhow,  that's  the  reason  why 
I  went  with  Will,  and  it  was  through  him 
and  his  drinking  ways  that  all  the  trouble 
began  that  made  my  life  a  terror  to  me,  and 
yet  brought  all  the  sweetness  into  it  that  a 
man  can  have,  and  more  than  l  any  have  a 
right  to  look  for. 

When  we  left  Liverpool  we  were  bound 
for  Melbourne  with  a  mixed  cargo  and  emi- 
grants ;  and  I  shouldn't  like  to  say  which  was 
the  most  mixed,  what  we  had  in  the  hold  or 
in  the  steerage,  for  I  don't  like  such  a  human 
cargo ;  no  sailor  does,  for  they  are  always  in 
the  way.     However,  that's  neither  here  nor 


ON   BOARD  THE   VANCOUVER.  O 

there,  for  though  Will  got  too  much  to  drink 
every  two  days  or  so  on  the  passage  out, 
nothing  happened  then  that  has  any  concern 
with  the  stoiy.  It  was  only  wh  3n  we  got  to 
Sandridge  that  the  yarn  begins,  rnd  it  began 
in  a  way  that  rather  took  me  aback ;  for 
though  I  had  always  thought  Will  a  man  who 
didn't  care  much  for  women,  or,  at  any  rate, 
enough  to  marry  one,  our  anchor  hadn't  been 
down  an  hour  before  a  lady  came  off  in  a 
boat.  It  w«s  Will's  wife,  as  he  explained  to 
me  in  a  rather  shamefaced  way  when  he  in- 
troduced hei",  and  a  fine-looking  woman  she 
was — of  a  beautiful  complexion  with  more 
red  in  it  than  most  Australians  have,  two 
piercing  black  eyes,  and  a  figure  that  ^vould 
have  surprised  you,  it  was  so  straight  and 
full.  ■         ' 

She  shook  hands  with  me  very  firmly,  and 
looked  at  me  in  such  a  way  that  it  seemed 
she  saw  right  through  me. 

"  I  am  veiy  pleased  to  see  you,  Mr.  Tice- 


IMSM 


r?? 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


'  > 


W 


hurst,"  she  said  ;  "  I  know  we  shall  be  friends, 
you  are  so  like  your  brother." 

Now,  somehow,  that  didn't  please  me,  for 
I  could  throw  Will  over  the  spanker  boom  if 
I  wanted  to ;  I  was  much  the  bigger  man  of 
the  two ;  and  as  for  strength,  there  was  no 
comparison  between  us.  Besides — however, 
that  doesn't  matter ;  and  I  answered  her 
heartily  enough,  for  I  confess  I  liked  her 
looks,  though  I  prefer  fair  women. 

"  I  am  sui'e  we  shall,"  said  I ;  "  my  brother's 
wife  must  be,  if  I  can  fix  it  so." 

And  with  that  I  went  off  and  left  them 
alone,  for  I  thought  I  might  not  be  wanted 
there ;  and  I  knew  very  well  I  was  Avanted 
elsewhere,  for  Tom  Mackenzie,  the  second 
officer,  was  making  signs  for  me  to  come  on 
deck. 

After  that  I  saw  her  a  good  deal,  for  we 
were  often  together,  especially  when  she  came 
down  once  or  twice  and  found  Will  the  worse 
for  liquor.     The  first  time  she  was  in  a  reg- 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER.  T 

ular  fury  about  it,  and  though  she  didn't  say 
much,  she  looked  like  a  woman  who  could 
do  anything  desperate,  or  even  worse  than 
that.  But  the  next  time  she  took  it  more 
coolly. 

"  Well,  Tom,"  she  said,  "  he  was  to  take 
me  to  the  theater,  but  now  he  can't  go.  What 
am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I,  foolishly  enough, 
as  it  seemed,  but  then  I  didn't  want  to  take 
the  hint,  which  I  understood  well  enough. 

"  Hum  ! "  she  said  shaiply,  looking  at  me 
straight.  I  believe  I  blushed  a  little  at  being 
bowled  out,  for  I  was  I  knew  that.  How- 
ever, when  she  had  made  up  her  mind,  she 
was  not  a  woman  to  be  baulked. 

"  Then  I  know,  Tom,  if  you  don't,"  she 
said  ;  "  you  must  take  me  yourself.  I  have 
the  tickets.     So  get  ready." 

"  But,  Helen !  "  I  said,  for  I  really  didn't 
like  to  go  off  with  her  in  that  way  without 
Will's  knowing. 


I'r-r 


w 


^^mmmmm* 


I     { 


8 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


Her  eyes  sparkled,  and  she  stamped  her 
foot. 

"  I  insist  on  it !  So  get  ready,  or  I'll  go 
by  myself.  And  how  would  Will  like 
that  ? " 

There  was  no  good  resisting  her,  she  was 
too  sharp  for  me,  and  I  went  like  a  lamb, 
doing  just  cs  she  ordered  me,  for  she  was  a 
masterful  woman  and  accustomed  to  have  her 
own  way.  If  I  did  wrong  I  was  punished  for 
it  afterward,  for  this  was  the  beginning  of  a 
kind  of  flirtation  which  I  swear  was  always 
innocent  enough  on  my  side,  and  would  have 
been  on  hers  too,  if  Will  had  not  been  a 
coward  with  the  drink. 

In  Melbourne  we  sjot  orders  for  San  Fran- 
cisco,  and  it  was  only  a  few  days  before  a\c' 
were  ready  to  sail  that  I  found  out  Helen  was 
going  with  us.  I  was  surprised  enough  any 
way,  for  I  knew  the  owners  objected  to  their 
captains  having  their  wives  on  board,  but  I 
was  more  surprised  that  she  was  ready  to 


ON.  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER.  % 

come.  I  hope  you  will  believe  that,  for  it  is 
as  trae  as  daylight.  I  thought  at  first  it  was 
all  WilFs  doing,  and  he  let  me  think  so,  for 
he  didn't  like  me  to  know  how  much  she 
ruled  him  when  he  was  sober.  However,  she 
came  on  board  to  stay  just  twenty-four  hours 
before  we  sailed ;  the  very  day  Will  went  up 
to  Melbourne  to  ship  two  men  in  place  of 
two  of  ours  who  had  run  from  the  vessel. 

Next  morning,  when  we  were  lying  in  the 
bay,  for  we  had  hauled  out  from  the  whari 
at  Sandridge,  a  boat  ran  alongside  just  at  six 
o'clock,  and  the  two  men  came  on  board. 

"  Who  are  you,  and  where  are  you  from  ? " 
I  asked  roughly,  for  I  didn't  like  the  look  of 
one  of  them. 

"These  are  the  two  hands  that  Captain 
Ticehurst  shipped  yesterday  from  a  Wil- 
liamstown  boarding  house,"  said  the  runner 
who  was  with  them. 

I  always  like  to  ship  men  from  the  Sailor's 
Home,  but  I  couldn't  help  myself  if  Will 


f 


w 


III 


Y 


(r 


■\  \ 


10 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


chose  to  take  what  he  could  get  out  of  a 
den  of  thieves  such  as  I  knew  his  place  to 
be. 

"  Veiy  well !  "  said  I  gruffly  enough. 
"  Look  alive,  get  your  dunnage  forward  and 
turn  to ! " 

One  of  them  was  a  hard-looking  little 
Cockney,  who  seemed  a  sailor  every  inch, 
though  there  weren't  many  of  them ;  but  the 
other  was  a  dark  lithe  man,  with  an  evil 
face,  who  looked  like  some  Oriental  half- 
caste. 

"  Here,"  said  I  to  the  Cockney,  "  what's 
your  name  ? " 

"Bill  Walker,  sir,'  he  answered. 

"Who's  the  man  with  you?  What  is 
he  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Dunno,  sir,"  said  Walker^  looking  forward 
at  the  figure  of  his  shipmate,  who  was  just 
disappearing  in  the  fo'c'sle  ;  "  1  reckon  he's 
some  kind  of  a  Dago,  that's  what  he  is,  some 
kind  of  a  Dago." 


ft.'iS 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


11 


Now,  a  Dago  in  sailor's  language  means, 
as  a  rule,  a  Frenchman,  Spaniard,  or  Greek, 
or  anyone  from  southern  Europe,  just  as  a 
Dutchman  means  anyone  from  a  Fin  down 
to  a  real  Hollander ;  so  I  wasn't  much  wiser. 
However,  in  a  day  or  two  Bill  Walker  came 
up  to  me  and  told  me,  in  a  confidential 
London  twang,  that  he  now  believed  Matthias, 
as  he  called  himself,  was  a  half-caste  Malay, 
as  I  had  thought  at  first.  But  I  was  to  know 
him  better  afterwai'd,  as  will  be  seen  before 
I  finish. 

Now,  it  is  a  strange  thing,  and  it  shows 
how  hard  it  is  for  a  man  not  accustomed 
to  writing,  like  myself,  to  tell  a  story  in  the 
proper  way,  that  I  have  not  said  anything 
of  the  passengers  who  were  going  with  us  to 
San  Francis  I  could  understand  it  if  I 
had  been  writing  this  down  just  at  the  time 
these  things  happened,  but  when  I  think 
that  I  have  put  the  Malay  before  Elsie 
Fleming,  even  if  he  came  into  my  life  first, 


'! 


!!;i 


ir'Mi:; 


inilii! 


rt 


12 


THE  M4TE   OF   THE  VANCOUVER. 


I  am  almost  ready  to  laugh  at  my  own 
stupidity.  For  Elsie  was  the  brightest,  bon- 
niest girl  I  ever  saw,  and  even  now  I  find  it 
hard  not  to  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag  before 
the  hour.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  being  the 
third  time  I  have  written  all  this  over,  I  had 
to  cut  out  pages  about  Elsie  which  did  not 
come  in  their  proper  place.  So  now  I  shall 
say  no  more  than  that  Elsie  and  her  sister 
Fauny,  and  their  father,  took  passage  with  us 
to  California,  as  we  were  the  only  sailing 
vessel  going  that  way;  and  old  Fleming, 
who  had  been  a  sailor  himself,  fairly  hated 
steamboats — aye,  a  good  deal  worse  than  I 
do,  for  I  think  them  a  curse  to  sailors.  But 
when  they  came  on  board  I  was  busy  as  a 
mate  is  when  ready  to  go  to  sea,  and  though 
I  believe  I  must  have  been  blind,  yet  I  hardly 
took  any  notice  of  the  two  sisters,  more  than 
to  remark  that  one  had  hair  like  gold  and  a 
laugh  which  was  as  sweet  as  a  fair  wind  up 
Channel.    But  I  came  to  know  her  better 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


18 


'  own 
b,  bon- 
find  it 
before 
ng  the 
I  had 
id  not 
[  shall 

sister 
vith  us 
sailing 
[eming, 
T  hated 
than  I 
i.  But 
sy  as  a 
though 
hardly 
re  than 
I  and  a 
ind  up 

better 


since;  tlough  in  a  way  different  from  the 
Malay. 

When  we  had  got  our  anchor  on  board, 
and  were  fairly  out  to  sea,  heading  for 
Bass's  Straits,  I  saw  her  and  Helen  talking 
together,  and  I  think  it  was  the  contrast 
between  the  two  that  first  attracted  me 
toward  her,  not  much  liking  dark  women, 
being  dark  myself.  She  seemed,  comj^ared 
with  Will's  wife,  as  fair  as  an  angel  from 
heaven,  though  the  glint  of  her  eyes,  and  her 
quick,  bright  ways,  showed  she  was  a  woman 
all  over.  I  took  a  fancy  to  her  that  moment, 
and  I  believe  Helen  saw  it,  when  I  think 
over  what  has  happened  since,  for  she 
frowned  and  bit  her  lip  hard,  until  I  could 
see  a  mark  there.  But  I  didn't  know  then 
what  I  do  now,  and  besides,  I  had  no 
time  to  think  about  such  things  just  then, 
for  we  were  hard  at  it  getting  things  ship- 
shaj)e. 

Tom  Mackenzie,  the  second   officer,   and 


Tr 


>il      I         il'igiBH 


14 


THE  If  ATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


■  I 


H 


;ii .  • 


a  much  older  man  than  myself — for  he  had 
been  to  sea  for  seventeen  years  before  he 
took  it  into  his  head  to  try  for  his  second 
mate's  ticket — came  up  to  me  when  the  men 
were  mustered  aft. 

"  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  he  gruffly,  "  I  should 
be  glad  if  you'd  take  that  Malay  chap  in 
your  watch,  for  I  have  two  d — d  Dagos 
already,  who  are  always  quarreling,  and  if 
I  have  three,  there  will  be  bloodshed  for 
sure.     I  don't  like  his  looks." 

"  No  more  ao  I,"  1  answered ;  "  but  I  don't 
care  for  his  looks.  I've  tamed  worse  looking 
men ;  and  if  you  ask  it,  Mackenzie,  why  I'll 
have  him  and  you  can  take  the  Cockney." 

I  think  this  was  very  good  of  me,  for  Bill 
Walker,  I  could  see,  was  a  real  smart  hand, 
and  a  merry  fellow,  not  one  of  those  grum- 
blers who  ahvays  make  trouble  for'ard,  and 
come  aft  at  the  head  of  a  deputation  once 
a  week  growling  about  the  vituals.  But 
Mackenzie  was  a  good  sort,  and  though  he 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


16 


ae  had 
ore  he 
second 
le  men 

should 

hap  in 

Dagos 

and  if 

led  for 

I  don't 
looking 
^hy  I'll 
ley." 
for  Bill 
[•t  hand, 
,e  grnm- 
ird,  and 
on  once 
s.     But 
ough  he 


was  under  me,  I  knew  that  for  practical 
seamanship — though  I  won't  take  a  back 
seat  among  any  men  of  my  years  at  sea — 
he  was  ahead  of  all  of  us.  So  I  was  ready 
to  do  him  a  good  turn,  and  it  was  true 
enough  he  had  two  Greeks  in  his  watch 
already. 

When  we  had  been  to  sea  about  a  week, 
and  got  into  the  regular  routine  of  work, 
which  comes  round  just  as  it  does  in  a  house, 
for  it  is  never  done,  Will  got  into  his  routine, 
too,  and  was  drunk  every  day  just  as  regular 
as  eight  bells  at  noon.  Helen  came  to  me, 
of  course. 

"  Tom,  can't  you  do  something  ? "  she  said, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  the  first  time  I  ever 
saw  them  there,  though  not  the  last.  "  It  is 
horrible  to  think  of  his  drinking  this  way ! 
And  then  before  those  two  girls — I  am 
ashamed  of  myself  and  of  him !  Can't  you 
do  anything  ? " 

"  What  can  I  do,  Helen  ?  "  I  asked.     "  I 


] 


16 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


!! 

i 


''! 


;i  I 


[ill 


( 
( 
( 

i 
I 


can't  take  it  from  him;  I  can't  stave  the 
liquor,  there's  too  much  of  it ;  besides,  he  is 
captain,  if  he  is  my  brother,  and  I  can't  go 
against  him." 

"But  can't  you  try  and  persuade  him, 
Tom  ? "  and  she  caught  my  arm  and  looked 
at  me  so  sorrowfully. 

"  Haven't  I  done  it,  Helen  !  "  I  answered. 
"  Do  you  think  1  have  seen  him  going  to 
hell  these  two  years  without  speaking  ?  But 
what  good  is  it — what  good  is  it  ? " 

She  turned  away  and  sat  do^vn  by  Elsie 
and  Fanny,  while  just  underneath  in  the 
saloon  Will  was  singing  some  old  song 
about  "Pass  the  bottle  round."  He  did, 
too,  and  it  comes  round  quick  at  a  party  of 
one. 

I  can  see  easily  that  if  I  tell  everything  in 
this  way  I  shall  never  finish  my  task  until  I 
have  a  pile  of  manuscript  as  big  as  the  log  of 
a  three  years'  voyage,  so  I  shall  have  to  get 
on  quickly,  and  Just  say  what  is  necessary, 


1 1  ( 


;  ■. 


I 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


17 


and  no  more.  And  now  I  must  say  that  by 
this  time  I  was  in  love  with  Elsie  Fleming, 
in  love  as  much  as  a  man  can  be,  in  love  with 
a  passion  that  trial  only  strengthened,  and 
time  could  not  and  cannot  destroy.  It  was 
no  wonder  I  loved  her,  for  she  was  the  fair- 
est, sweetest  maid  I  ever  saw,  with  long  golden 
hair,  bright  blue  eyes  that  looked  straight  at 
one,  but  which  could  be  very  soft  too  some- 
times, and  a  neat  little  figure  that  made  me 
feel,  great  strong  brute  that  I  was,  as  clumsy 
as  an  ox,  though  I  was  as  quick  yet  to  go 
aloft  as  any  young  man  if  occasion  called  for 
the  mate  to  show  his  men  the  way.  And 
when  we  were  a  little  more  than  half  across 
the  Pacific  to  the  Golden  Gate,  I  began  to 
think  that  Elsie  liked  me  more  than  she  did 
anyone  else,  for  she  would  often  talk  to  me 
about  her  past  life  in  sunny  New  South 
Wales,  and  shiver  to  think  that  her  father 
might  insist  on  staying  a  long  time  in  British 
Columbia,  for  he  was  going  to  take  possession 


1 


!l 


18 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANOOUVEB. 


I    ! 


of  a  farm  left  him  by  an  old  uncle  near  a  place 
called  Thomson  Forks. 

It  was  sweet  to  have  her  near  me  in  the 
first  watch,  and  I  cursed  quietly  to  myself 
when  young  Jack  Hanner,  the  apprentice, 
struck  four  bells,  for  at  ten  o'clock  she  always 
said,  "  Good-night,  Mr.  Ticehurst.  I  must  go 
now.  How  sleepy  one  does  get  at  sea  !  Dear 
me,  how  can  you  keep  your  eyes  open  ? "  And 
when  she  went  down  it  seemed  as  if  the  moon 
and  stars  went  out. 

When  it  was  old  Mackenzie's  first  watch  I 
was  almost  fool  enough  to  be  jealous  of  her 
being  with  him  then,  though  he  had  a  wife  at 
home,  and  a  daughter  just  as  old  as  Elsie,  and 
he  thought  no  more  of  women,  as  a  rule,  than 
a  hog  does  of  harmony,  as  I  once  heard  an 
American  say.  Still,  when  I  lay  awake  and 
heard  her  step  overhead,  for  I  knew  it  well,  I 
was  almost  ready  to  get  up  then  and  there 
and  make  an  unutterable  fool  of  myself  by 
losing  my  natural  sleep. 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


19 


And  now  I  am  coming  to  what  I  would 
willingly  leave  out.  I  hope  that  people  won't 
think  badly  of  me  for  my  share  in  it,  for 
though  I  was  not  always  such  a  straight 
walker  in  life  as  some  are,  yet  I  would  not  do 
what  evil-minded  folks  might  think  I  did. 
Somehow  I  have  a  diflSculty  in  putting  it 
down,  for  though  I  have  spoken  of  it  some- 
times sori'owfully  enough  to  one  who  is  very 
dear  to  me,  yet  to  write  it  coolly  on  paper 
seems  cowardly  and  treacherous.  And  yet, 
toeing  that  I  can  harm  no  one,  and  knowing 
as  I  do  in  my  heart  that  I  wanu't  to  blame,  I 
must  do  it,  and  do  it  as  kindly  as  I  can. 
Tliis  is  what  I  mean :  I  began  to  see  that 
Helen  loved  me  more  than  she  should  have 
done,  and  that  she  hated  Will  bitterly,  but 
Elsie  even  worse. 

It  was  a  great  surprise  to  me,  for,  to  tell 
the  truth,  women  as  a  general  rule  have 
never  taken  to  me  very  much,  and  Will  was 
always  the  one  in  our  family  who  had   most 


[rn^ 


w 


■HH 


(h 


'\ 


',    M:    -i 


llliili*! 


■■\-^. 


20 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


to  do  with  them.  And  for  my  part,  until  I 
saw  Elsie  I  never  really  loved  anyone,  al- 
though, like  most  men,  I  have  had  a  few 
troubles  which  until  then  I  thought  love- 
affairs.  So  it  was  very  hard  to  convince  my- 
self that  what  I  suspected  was  true,  even 
though  I  believe  that  I  have  a  natural  fitness 
for  judging  people  and  seeing  through  them, 
even  women,  who  some  folks  say  do  not  act 
from  reason  like  men.  However,  I  don't  think 
they  are  much  different,  for  few  of  us  act  rea- 
sonably. But  all  this  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  matter  in  hand.  Now,  I  must  confess,  al- 
though it  seems  wicked,  that  I  was  a  little 
pleased  at  first  to  think  that  two  women  loved 
me,  for  we  are  all  vain,  and  that  certainly 
touches  a  man's  vanity,  and  yet  I  was  sorry 
too,  for  I  foresaw  trouble  unless  I  was  very 
careful,  though  not  all  the  woe  and  pain  which 
came  out  of  this  business  before  the  end. 

The  first  thing  that  made  me  suspect  some- 
thing ^^'aK  ^vrong,   was   that   Helen    almost 


-.rjs«. 


until  I 
one,  al- 
l  a  few 
tit  love- 
nce  my- 
le,  even 
,1  fitness 
;li  tliem, 
not  act 
I't  tliink 
act  rea- 
do  with 
ifess,  al- 
a  little 
n loved 
ertainly 
as  sorry 
ras  very 
n  which 
nd. 

3t  some- 
almost 


ON  BOARD  THE   VANCOUVER. 


21 


ceased  to  keep  Will  from  the  bottle,  and  she 
taunted  him  bitterly,  so  bitterly,  that  if  he 
had  not  usually  been  a  good-tempered  ft;ll')w 
even  when  drunk,  he  might  have  turned 
nasty  and  struck  her.  And  then  she  would 
never  leave  me  and  Elsie  alone  if  she  could 
help  it,  although  she  was  not  hypocrite 
enough  to  pretend  to  be  very  fond  of  her. 
Indeed,  Elsie  said  one  night  to  me  that  she 
was  afraid  Mrs.  Ticehurst  didn't  like  her.  I 
laughed,  but  I  saw  it  was  true.  Then,  when- 
ever she  could,  Helen  came  and  walked  with 
me,  and  she  hardly  ever  spoke.  It  seems  to 
me  now,  when  I  know  all,  that  she  was  in  a 
perpetual  conflict,  and  v  is  hardly  in  her  right 
mind.  I  should  like  to  think  that  she  was 
not. 

I  was  in  a  very  difficult  position,  as  any 
man  will  admit.  I  loved  Elsie  dearly ;  I  was 
convinced  my  brother's  wife  loved  me  ;  and 
we  were  all  four  shut  up  on  ship-l)oard.  I 
think  if  we  had  been  on  land  I  should  have 


I  {     ■ 


w 


22 


THE   MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


■ 


m 


HVW 


ill 

if 


spoken  to  Elsie  and  run  away  from  the 
others,  but  here  I  could  not  speak  without 
telling  her  more  than  I  desired,  or  without 
our  being  in  the  position  of  lovers,  which 
might  have  caused  trouble.  For  I  even 
thought,  so  suspicious  does  a  man  get, 
that  Helen  might  perhaps  have  come  on 
board  more  on  my  account  than  on 
WilFs. 

All  this  time  we  were  making  very  fair 
headway,  for  we  had  a  good  breeze  astern  of 
us,  and  the  "  Islands "  (as  they  call  them  in 
San  Fj'ancisco),  that  is  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
were  a  long  way  behind  us.  If  we  had  con- 
tinued to  have  fine  weather,  or  if  Will  had 
kept  sober,  or  even  so  drunk  that  he  could 
not  have  interfered  in  working  the  ship, 
things  might  not  have  taken  the  turn  they 
did,  and  what  happened  between  me  and  the 
Malay  who  called  himself  Matthias  might 
never  have  occurred.  And  when  I  look  back 
on  the  train  of  circumstances,  it  almost  makes 


11 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


23 


me  believe  in  Fate,  though  I  should  be  un- 
willing to  do  that ;  for  I  was  taught  by  my 
mother,  a  very  intelligent  woman  who  read  a 
great  deal  of  theology,  that  men  hare  free 
will  and  can  do  as  they  please. 

However,  when  we  were  nearing  the 
western  coast  of  America,  Will,  who  had  a 
great  notion — a  much  greater  one  than  I  had, 
by  the  way — of  his  navigation,  began  to  come 
up  every  day  and  take  his  observations  with 
me,  until  at  last  the  weather  altered  so  for  the 
worse,  and  it  came  on  to  blow  so  hard,  that 
neither  of  us  could  take  any  more.  Now,  if 
Will  drank  enougli,  Heaven  knows,  in  fine 
weather,  he  drank  a  deal  harder  in  fold, 
though  by  getting  excited  it  didn't  have  the 
usual  effect  on  him,  and  he  kept  about  with- 
out going  to  sleep  just  where  he  sat  or  lay 
down.  So  he  was  always  on  deck,  much  to 
my  annoyance,  for  I  could  see  the  men  laugh- 
ing as  he  clung  to  the  rail  at  the  break  of  the 
poop,  bowing  and  scraping,  like  an   intoxi- 


' '":  '" 


1'!' 
•I  ■ 

It; 


m 


! 


; 


■iiiiiii 


24 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


cated  dancing  master,  with  every  roll  the 
Vancouver  made. 

For  live  days  we  had  been  running  by  dead 
reckoning,  and  as  well  as  I  could  make  out  we 
were  heading  sti'aight  for  the  coast,  a  good 
bit  to  the  nor'ard  of  our  true  course.  Besides, 
we  were  a  good  fifty  miles  farther  east  than 
Will  made  out,  according  to  his  figures,  and  I 
said  as  much  to  him.  He  laughed  scornfully. 
"  I'm  captain  of  this  ship,"  said  he ;  "  and  Tom 
— don't  you  interfere.  If  I've  a  mind  to  knock 
Mendocino  County  into  the  middle  of  next 
week,  I'll  do  it !  But  I  haven't,  and  we  are 
running  just  right." 

You  see,  when  he  was  in  this  state  he  was 
a  very  hard  man  to  work  with,  and  if  we  dif- 
fered in  our  figures  I  had  often  enough  a  big 
job  to  convince  him  that  he  was  wrong.  And 
being  wrong  even  a  second  in  the  longitude 
means  being  sixty  miles  out.  And  with  only 
dead  reckoning  to  rely  on,  we  should  have 
been  feeling  our  way  cautiously  toward  the 


ON  BOAKD   THE  VANCOUVER. 


25 


1  the 

dead 
lit  we 
L  good 
3sides, 
;  tliau 
,  and  I 
afully. 
dTom 
knock 
f  next 
ve  are 

be  was 
we  dif- 
1  a  big 
And 
pmtude 
th  only 
d  have 
ird  the 


coast,  seeing  that  in  any  case  we  might  fetch 
up  on  the  Farallon  Islands,  w^hich  lie  twenty 
miles  west  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

On  the  sixth  day  of  this  weather  it  began 
to  clear  up  a  little  in  the  morning  watch,  and 
there  seemed  some  possibility  of  our  getting 
sight  of  the  sun  before  eight  bells.  Will  was 
on  deck,  and  rather  more  sober  than  usual. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  I  to  him,  for  I  was  just  as 
respectful,  I'll  swear,  as  if  he  was  no  relation, 
"  there  seems  a  chance  of  getting  an  observa- 
tion ;  shall  we  take  it  ?  " 

"  Very  w  ell,"  said  he.  "  Send  Harmer 
here,  and  we'll  wait  for  a  chance." 

Harmer  came  aft,  and  brought  up  Will's 
sextant,  and  just  then  the  port  foretopsail 
sheet  parted,  for  it  w^as  really  blowing  hard, 
tliough  the  sun  came  out  at  intervals.  I  ran 
forward  myself,  and  l)y  the  time  the  watch 
liad  clewed  up  the  sail  and  made  it  fast,  eight 
bells  had  struck.  When  I  went  aft  I  met 
Harmer. 


26 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


'.  i 


i,!'!  I 


'  "'I 


9  I 

I 


I''   >  i    I 


i!i 


I 


i 


■ 


( 


"  Did  yoii  get  an  observation  ! "  I  asked 
anxiously,  for  when  a  man  has  the  woman  he 
loves  on  board  it  makes  him  feel  worried, 
especially  if  things  go  as  thej^  were  going 
then. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  he,  "and  the 
captain  is  working  it  out  now.  But,  sir,  if  I 
w^ere  you  I  would  go  over  it  after  him,  for 
two  heads  are  better  than  one,"  and  he 
laughed,  being  a  merry,  thoughtless  young- 
ster, and  went  into  his  berth. 

However,  I  did  not  do  what  he  said,  think- 
ing that  we  should  both  get  an  observation 
at  noon.  We  w^ere  very  lucky  to  do  so,  for 
it  began  to  thicken  again  at  ten  o'clock,  and 
we  were  in  a  heavy  fog  until  nearly  twelve. 
And  as  soon  as  eight  bells  was  struck,  the 
fog  which  had  lifted  came  down  again. 

When  I  got  below  Will  already  had  the 
chart  out,  and  w^as  showing  the  women  where 
we  were,  as  he  said ;  and  when  I  came  in  he 
called  me. 


ON   BOARD  THE   VANCOUVER. 


27 


"There,  look,  Mr.  Chief  Officer!  what  did 
I  tell  you  ?  Look !  "  and  he  pricked  off  our 
position  as  being  just  about  where  he  had 
reckoned. 

I  took  up  the  slate  he  had  been  making 
the  calculation^  ^n,  but  he  saw  me,  and  snatched 
it  out  of  my  hand. 

"  What  d'ye  mean  ? "  said  he  fiercely ;  "  what 
do  you  want  ?  "  and  he  threw  it  on  the  deck, 
smashing  it  in  four  pieces.  I  made  a  sign  to 
Elsie,  and  she  picked  them  up  like  lightning, 
while  Will  called  for  the  steward  and  some 
more  brandy,  and  began  drinking  in  a  worse 
temper  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  in. 

When  I  passed  Elsie  she  gave  me  the 
broken  bits  of  slate,  and  I  went  into  my  cabin, 
pieced  them  together,  and  worked  the  whole 
tiling  out  again.  And  when  I  had  done  it 
the  blood  ran  to  my  head  and  I  almost  fell. 
For  the  morning  observation  which  Will  only 
had  taken  was  wrongly  worked  out.  I  ran 
out  on  deck  like  lightning,  and  found  it  a 


!"'n 


irTfT 


!| 


28 


THE   MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


1:; 


! 


thick  fog  all  round  us,  for  all  the  wind.  Old 
Mackenzie  was  in  the  poop,  and  he  roared  out 
when  he  saw  me  : 

"  What's  the  matter,  Tom  Ticehurst  ? " 
"  Put  the  ship  up  into  the  wind,  for  God's 
sake  ! "  I  shouted.  "  And  send  a  hand  up 
aloft  to  look  out,  for  the  coast  should  be 
right  under  our  bows.  We  must  be  in  Bal- 
linas  Bay."  And  as  he  ported  the  helm, 
I  rushed  back  into  the  cabin  and  took  the 
chai't  out  again  to  verify  our  position  as  near 
as  I  could.  The  coast  ought  to  be  in  sight  if 
the  fog  cleared.  For  we  had  run  through  or 
past  the  Farallones  without  seeing  them. 

When  I  came  down  the  women  all  cried 
out  at  the  sight  of  me,  for  though  I  controlled 
myself  all  I  could,  it  was  impossible,  so  sud- 
den was  the  shock,  to  hide  all  I  felt.  And 
just  then  the  Vancouver  was  coming  into  the 
wind,  the  men  were  at  the  lee  braces,  and  as 
she  dived  suddenly  into  the  head  seas,  her 
pitches  were  tremendous.     It  seemed  to  the 


4, 


Hiillii 


fH  I  , 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


29 


id.    Old 
ared  out 

t?" 

or  God's 
land  up 
ould  be 
in  Bal- 
le  helm, 
book  the 
1  as  near 
1  sight  if 
rough  or 
em. 

all  cried 
)ntrolled. 
so  sud- 
t.  And 
into  the 
s,  and  as 
eas,  her 
d  to  the 


women  that  something  must  be  wrong, 
while  Will,  who,  seaman-like,  knew  what  had 
happened,  though  mad  with  drink,  rushed  on 
deck  with  a  fierce  oath.  I  dropped  the  chart 
and  ran  after  him;  yet  I  stayed  a  mo- 
ment. 

"  It  will  be  all  right,"  I  said  to  the  women ; 
"  but  I  can't  tell  you  now."  And  I  followed 
Will,  who  had  got  hold  of  old  Mackenzie  by 
the  throat,  while  the  poor  fellow  looked 
thunderstruck. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  ? "  he 
screamed.  ^'  Why  don't  you  keep  the  course  ? 
Man  the  weather-braces,  you  dogs,  and  put 
the  helm  up  ! " 

But  no  one  stirred ;  while  Tom  Mackenzie, 
seeing  me  there,  took  Will  by  the  wrists  and 
threw  him  away  from  him.  I  caught  him  as 
he  fell,  roaring,  "  Mutiny  !  Mutiny  !  " 

"  It's  no  mutiny  ! "  I  shouted,  in  my  turn ; 
"  if  we  keep  your  course  we  shall  be  on  the 
rocks  in  half  an  hour.    I  tell  you  the  land  is 


I! 


ili 


11  ill 


lilfPiii 


30 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


dead  to  loo-ard,  aye,  and  not  five  miles 
off." 

But  it  was  less  than  that,  for  just  then  it 
cleared  up  a  little.  And  the  lookout  on  the 
foreyard  shouted,  "  Land  on  the  lee-bow !  " 
Then  he  cried  out,  ^'  Land  right  ahead  ! " 
Whether  Will  heard  him  or  not,  I  don't 
know,  but  he  broke  away  from  me  and  fell, 
rather  than  went,  down  the  companion,  and 
in  a  moment  I  heard  the  women  scream. 

I  caught  Mackenzie  by  the  arm. 

"It's  for  our  lives,  and  the  lives  of  the 
women  ?  He's  gone  for  his  revolver !  I 
shall  take  command  !  "  f 

And  I  sprang  behind  the  companion  like 
lightning.  And  just  in  time,  for,  as  Will 
came  up,  I  saw  he  was  armed,  and  I  jumped 
right  on  his  back.  His  revolver  went  off  and 
struck  the  taffrail ;  the  next  moment  I  had 
kicked  it  forward  to  where  Mackenzie  was 
standing,  and  grasped  Will  by  the  arms. 

I  had  never  given    him    credit  for  the 


I 


ON   BOARD  THE   VANCOUVER. 


31 


strength  he  showed,  but  then  he  was  mad, 
mad  drunk,  and  it  was  not  till  Walker  and 
Matthias — for  all  hands  were  on  deck  ])y  this 
time — came  to  help  me  that  I  secured  him. 
In  the  struggle  Will  drew  back  his  foot  and 
kicked  the  Malay  in  the  face,  and  as  he  rose, 
with  the  evilest  look  I  ever  saw  on  a  man's 
countenance,  he  drew  his  knife  instinctively. 
With  my  left  hand  I  caught  his  wrist  and 
nearly  broke  it,  while  the  knife  flew  out  of 
his  hand.  And  then,  even  by  that  simple 
action,  I  saw  that  I  had  made  an  enemy  of 
this  man,  whom  up  to  this  time  I  had  always 
been  kind  to  and  treated  with  far  more  con- 
sideration than  he  would  have  got  from 
rough  old  Mac.  But  this  is  only  by  the 
way,  though  it  is  important  enough  to  the 
story. 

I  had  to  tie  Will's  hands,  and  all  the  time 
he  foamed  at  the  mouth,  ordering  the  crew  to 
assist  him. 

"  I'll  have  you  hung,  you  dogs,  all  of  you ! " 


I;  il 


1 
III  II 


11 


'llji.:. 

IP!! 


'    I!  ■   f 


il 

1^      '  ' 


m'  ' 


ititlil!;'!! 


WiW 


illliil! 

1    ''f }  f 


^i!  ill  ill! 


32 


THE  MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


he  shrieked,  while  the  three  women  stood  on 
the  companion-ladder,  white  and  trembling 
with  fear. 

It  was  with  great  trouble  that  we  got  him 
below,  and  when  he  was  there  I  shut  him  ir 
his  berth,  and  sent  the  two  stewards  in  with 
him  to  see  that  he  neither  did  himself  harm 
nor  got  free,  and  then  I  turned  my  attention 
to  saving  the  ship  and  our  lives. 

We  were  in  an  awfully  critical  situation, 
and  one  which,  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
might  have  made  a  man's  heart  quail ;  but 
now — with  the  woman  I  loved  on  board — it 
was  maddening  to  think  of,  and  made  me 
curse  my  brother  who  had  brought  us  into  it. 
Think  of  what  it  was.  Not  five  miles  on  our 
lee-bow  there  was  the  land,  and  we  could  even 
distinguish  as  we  lifted  on  the  .sja  the  cruel 
line  of  white  breakers  which  seemed  to  run 
nearly  abeam,  for  the  Vancouver  was  not  a 
very  weatherly  ship,  and  the  gale,  instead 
of    breaking,    increased,    until,    if    I    had 


U  ill 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


33 


dared,  I  would  Lave  ordered  sail  to  be 
shortened. 

I  weut  to  the  chart  again.  Just  as  I  took 
it,  Mackenzie  called  to  me,  "  Mr.  Ticehurst, 
thei'e's  a  big  flat-topped  mountain  some  way 
inland.  I  think  it  must  be  Table  Mountain." 
Yes,  he  knew  the  coast,  and  even  as  I  looked 
at  the  chart,  I  heard  him  order  the  helm  to 
be  put  up.  I  saw  why,  for  when  we  had 
hauled  into  the  wind,  we  were  heading  dead 
for  the  great  four-fathom  bank  that  lies  off 
Bonita  Point.  But  there  w^as  a  channel  be- 
tween it  and  the  laud. 

I  ran  on  deck  and  spoke  to  Mackenzie.  He 
pointed  out  on  the  starboard  hand,  and  there 
the  water  was  breaking  on  the  bank.  We 
were  running  for  the  narrow  channel  under  a 
considerable  press  of  canvas,  seeing  how  it 
blew ;  for  all  Mac  relieved  her  of  when  we 
first  put  her  into  the  w^ind  was  the  main  top- 
gallant sail.  And  now  I  could  do  nothing 
for  a  moment  but  try  to  get  sight  of  our  land- 


;^  ir^/r.i^'V^ 


m 


Hi 


i!  S! 


'  ll*    fill  .f  .        i 


11 


ill 


!!•; 


ill 


WiliiC 


84 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


marks,  and  keep  sight  of  them,  for  the 
weather  was  still  thick. 

Fortunately,  as  it  might  have  seemed  for 
us,  the  chain-cables  had  already  been  ranged 
fore  and  aft  on  the  deck,  and  I  told  Mackenzie 
to  see  them  bent  on  to  the  anchors,  and  the 
stoppers  made  ready.  Yet  I  knew  that  if  we 
had  to  anchor,  we  were  lost ;  in  such  a  gale  it 
could  only  postpone  our  fate,  for  they  would 
come  home  or  part  to  a  dead  certainty. 

Mackenzie  and  I  stood  together  on  the 
poop  watching  anxiously  for  the  right  moment 
to  haul  our  wind  again. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Mr.  Mackenzie  ? " 
1  said,  as  I  clung  on  to  a  weather  backstay. 
"  Where  do  you  think  we  shall  be  in  half  an 
hour  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  see  Whitechapel 
again,  sir,"  he  answered  quietly,  and  I  kne\v 
he  was  thinking  of  home,  of  his  wife  and  his 
daughter.  "  She  will  go  to  leeward  like  a 
butter-cask  in  this  sea ;  and  now  look  at  the 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


85 


land ! "  Aucl  lie  pointed  toward  the  line  of 
breakers  on  the.  land,  which  came  nearer  and 
nearer.  We  waited  yet  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  I  looked  at  Mackenzie  inquiringly. 
"  Yes,  I  think  so,  sir,"  he  said,  and  with  ray 
hand  I  motioned  the  men  at  the  wheel  to  put 
the  helm  down  as^ain.  As  she  came  into  the 
wind  the  upper  foretopsail  blew  out  of  the 
l)oltropes,  while  the  vessel  struggled  like  a 
beaten  hound  that  is  being  dragged  to  exe- 
cution, and  shivered  from  stem  to  s':ern. 
For  the  waves  were  running  what  landsmen 
call  mountains  high ;  she  now  shipped  a  sea 
every  moment,  which  came  in  a  flood  over 
the  fo'c'sle  head  ;  and  pouring  down  through 
the  scuttle,  the  cover  of  which  had  been 
washed  overboard,  it  sent  the  men's  chests 
adrift  in  the  fo'c'sle  raid  washed  the  blankets 
out  of  the  lower  bunks.  And  to  windward 
the  roar  of  the  breakers  on  the  bank  was 
deafening.  I  went  below  just  for  a  moment. 
I  knew  I  had  no  right  to  go  there,  my  place 


,,i.^|p,f,-,y^ 


I!  .       ^ijil 


11,    ;:)|if;|| 


iiiiiii 


'""f  f™ 


T 


i 


f|  it; 


♦  Ifll 


m 


!,^ 


M  ir 


.in'!       il' 


'I 


i«    " 


1  ^i! 


IM]. 


36 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


was  on  deck,  but  could  not  lielp  myself.  I 
must  see  Elsie  once  more  before  we  died,  for 
if  the  vessel  struck,  the  first  sea  tliat  washed 
over  her  might  take  me  with  it,  and  we 
should  never  see  each  other  again  on  earth. 
But  the  two  sisters  were  not  in  the  saloon.  I 
stepped  toward  their  berth,  and  Helen  met 
me,  rising  up  from  the  deck,  where  she  had 
been  crouching  down  in  terror. 

I  have  said  she  was  beautiful ;  and  so  she 
was  when  she  smiled,  and  the  pleasant  light 
fell  about  her  like  sunlight  on  some  strange 
and  rare  tropical  flower,  showing  her  rosy 
complexion,  her  delicate  skin  of  full-blooded 
olive,  and  hei*  coils  of  dark  md  shining  hair 
But  I  never  saw  her  so  beautiful  as  she  was 
then,  clothed  strangely  with  the  fear  of  death, 
white  with  passion  that  might  have  made  a 
weaker  woman  crimson  with  shame,  and 
fiercely  triumphant  with  a  bitter  self-con- 
quest. She  caught  me  by  the  arm.  "Tom, 
dear  Tom,"  she   said,  in  a  wonderful  voice 


ON   BOARD   THE   VANC0UVP:R. 


m 


tliat  came  to  rae  clearly  tliroiigli  the  howl  of 
the  wind,  "  I  know  there  is  not  hope  for  us. 
lie  "  (and  she  pointed  toward  her  husband's 
cabin)  "  has  ruined  us !  I  hate  him  !  And, 
Tom,  now  it  is  all  over,  and  we  shall  not 
live  !     Say  good-by  to  me,  say  good-by  ! " 

I  stood  thunderstruck  and  motionless,  for 
I  knov/  ^^  hat  she  meant  even  before  she  put 
up  hti  iiands  and  took  rae  round  the  neck. 
*'  Kiss  me  once,  just  once,  and  I  will  die — for 
now  I  could  not  live,  and  would  not !  Kiss 
me  ! "  And  I  did  kiss  her.  Why,  I  know  not, 
whether  out  of  pity  (it  was  not  love — no, 
not  love  of  any  kind,  I  swear)  or  from  the 
strong  constrair  top  her  force  of  mind^  I  can- 
not say ;  an'-  ;  %  I  iifted  my  head  from  hers,  I 
saw. Elsie,  the  w<  :ii.^n  I  did  love,  looking  at 
me  with  shame  at  my  fall,  as  she  th.ought, 
and  with  scorn.  I  freed  myself  from  Ilel^^n, 
who  sank  down  on  her  knees  without  seeing 
tl'^t  she  b;.'i  been  observed,  and  I  went  to- 
\>ard  Elsie,     ruie,  too,  was  pale,  though  not 


'tfWWf™' 


m 


I 'mi 


m    ^n;i 


1^ 

>  I 

If 


^ill 


,p.i.^i.ll!!,ll 


i  i  )i 


v»ii 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 

with  fear,  for  pei'haps  she  was  ignorant  of  her 
danger,  but  as  I  thought  with  a  little  feeling 
of  triumph  even  then,  for  we  are  strange 
beings,  with  jealousy  and  anger. 

"  You  are  a  coward  and  a  traitor ! "  she 
said,  when  I  reached  her. 

"No,  no,  I  am  no'  Elsie,"  I  answered 
sharply ;  "  but  perhaps  y«j  ^vill  never  know 
that  I  am  speaking  the  truth.     But  let  that 

be ;  are  you  a  brave  woman  ?     For But 

where  is  your  father  ? " 

"  With  Fanny,"  she  answered,  disdainfully 
even  then. 

I  called  him,  and  he  came  out. 

"  Mr.  Fleming,"  I  said  ;  "  you  know  our 
position;  in  a  few  minutes  we  shall  be  safe 
or — ashore.  Get  your  daughters  dressed 
.  warmly ;  stay  at  the  foot  of  the  companion 
with  them,  and,  if  it  is  necessary,  come  up 
when  I  call  you." 

The  old  man  shook  hands  with  me  and 
pointed  to  Will's  wife.     I  had  forgotten  her  ! 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


39 


"Look  after  her,  too,"  I  said,  and  went  to 
Will's  cabin.  He  was  fast  asleep  and  snor- 
ing hard.  I  could  hardly  keep  from  striking 
him,  but  I  let  him  lie.  Was  it  a  wonder  that 
a  woman  ceased  to  love  him  ?  And  I  went 
on  deck. 

I  had  not  been  absent  five  minntes,  but  in 
that  time  the  wind  had  increased  even  more, 
the  seas  seemed  to  have  grown  heavier,  the 
decks  were  Jull  of  water,  and  the  fatal  wake 
was  yet  broader  on  the  weather-quarter.  All 
the  men  were  aft  under  the  break  of  the 
poop,  and  most  of  them,  thinking  that  we 
must  go  ashore,  had  taken  off  their  oilskins 
and  sea-boots  ready  for  an  effort  to  save 
themselves  at  the  last.  Even  in  the  state  of 
mind  that  I  was  in  then,  1  saw  clearly,  and 
the  strange  picture  they  presented — wet 
through,  some  with  no  hats  on,  up  to  their 
knees  in  water,  for  the  decks  could  not  clear 
themselves,  though  some  of  the  main  deck 
})orts   were   stov^e   in    and  some   out   in  the 


riT 


i 


'•I 
i4 


i'i 


•iilii 


iilililUll 


ill 


Rnnii 


|lil!litii!l(!i!i 


lilJ 


iif!), 


ill 


mm 


40 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


bulwarks — remains  vividly  with  me  now. 
Among  tliem  stood  Matthias,  with  a  red 
handkerchief  over  his  head,  and  a  swelled 
cheek,  where  Will  had  stinick  him.  By  his 
side  was  Walker,  the  only  man  in  the  crowd 
who  seemed  cheerful,  and  he  actually  smiled. 
Perhaps  he  was  what  the  Scotch  called 
"  fey." 

Suddenly  Mackenzie   called  me  loudly. 

"  Look  sir,  look  !  There  is  the  point,  the 
last  of  the  land !  It's  Bonita  Point,  if  I 
kno.v  this  coast  at  all !  " 

I  sprang  into  the  weather  mizzen  rigging. 
and  the  men,  who  had  noticed  the  second 
mate's  gestures,  did  the  same  at  the  main. 
I  could  see  the  Point,  and  knew  it,  and  I 
knew  if  we  could  only  weather  it  we  could 
put  the  helm  up  and  run  into  San  Francisco 
in  safety.  Just  then  Harmer,  who  was  as 
cool  as  a  cucumber,  struck  four  bells,  and 
Matthias  and  a  man  called  Tliompson,  an  old 
one-eyed  sailor,  came  up  to  relieve  the  wheel. 


:tim': 


■,1.    ,   -[ii 


ON   BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


41 


The  point  which  we  had  to  weather  was 
about  as  far  from  us  as  the  land  dead  to 
leeward,  and  it  was  touch  and  go  whether  we 
should  clear  it  or  not.  The  Vancouver  made 
such  leeway,  closehauled,  that  it  seemed 
doubtful,  and  I  fancir^  we  should  have  a 
better  chance  if  I  freed  her  a  little,  to  let  her 
go  through  the  water  faster.  Yet  it  was  a 
ticklish  point,  and  one  not  to  be  decided 
without  thought  in  a  situation  which  de- 
manded instant   action. 

"  What  think  you,  Mac,"  said  I  hurriedly  : 
"  shall  we  ease  her  half  a  point  ? " 

He  nodded,  and  I  spoke  to  the  men  at  the 
wheel,  and  as  I  did  so  I  noticed  the  Malay's 
face,  which  was  ghastly  with  fear,  although 
he  seemed  steady  enough.  But  I  thought  it 
best  to  alter  the  way  they  stood,  for  the 
Englishman  had  the  lee  wheel.  I  ordered 
them  to  change  places. 

"What's  that  for,  sir?"  said  Matthias, 
almost  disrespectfully.    I  stared  at  him. 


i*nnnp 


I  I,     IS'/  ^'  .    ■      . 


W      ' 


f   . 


■«ii'i|!i 


•ll 


i! 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 

"  Do  as  you  are  told,  you  dog ! "  I 
answered  roughly,  for  I  had  no  time  to  be 
polite.  "  I  don't  like  your  steering.  I  have 
noticed  it  before." 

When  the  course  was  altered  she  got  much 
more  way  on  her,  but  neared  the  land  yet 
more  rapidly.  I  called  the  men  on  to  the 
poop,  for  I  had .  long  before  this  determined 
not  to  chance  the  anchors,  and  looked  down 
into  the  saloon  to  see  if  the  women  were 
there. 

As  I  did  so  Mr.  Fleming  called  me. 

"  If  I  can  be  of  any  use,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  I 
am  ready." 

"I  think  not,  Mr.  Fleming,"  I  replied  as 
cheerfully  as  possible ;  "  we  shall  be  out  of 
danger  in  a  few  minutes — or  on  the  rocks,"  I 
added  to  myself,  as  I  closed  the  hatch. 

It  was  a  brtcithless  and  awful  time,  and  I 
confess  that  for  a  few  moments  I  forgot  the 
very  existence  of  Elsie,  as  I  calculated  over 
and  over  again  the  chances  as  we  neared  the 


1 


ON   BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


43 


Point.  It  depended  on  a  hair,  and  when 
I  looked  at  Mackenzie,  who  was  silent  and 
gloomy,  I  feared  the  worst.  Yet  it  shows 
how  strangely  one  can  be  affected  by  one's 
fellows  that  when  I  saw  Harmer  and  Walker 
standing  side  by  side  their  almost  cheerful 
faces  made  me  hope,  and  I  smiled.  But  we 
were  within  three  cables'  length  of  the  Point, 
and  the  roar  of  the  breakers  came  up  against 
the  wind  until  it  deafened  us.  I  watched 
the  men  at  the  wheel,  and  I  saw  Matthias 
flinch  visibly  as  though  he  had  been  struck 
by  a  whip.  I  didn't  know  why  it  was,  I  am 
not  good  at  such  things,  but  I  took  a  deeper 
dislike  to  him  that  moment  than  I  had  ever 
had,  and  I  stepped  up  to  him.  Now  in  what 
followed  perhaps  I  myself  was  to  blame,  and 
yet  I  feel  I  could  not  have  acted  differently. 
Perhaps  I  looked  threatening  at  him  as  I  ap- 
proached, but  at  any  rate  he  let  go  the  wheel 
and  fell  back  on  the  gratings.  With  an  angry 
oath  I  jumped  into  his  place,  struck  him  with 


44 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


,j,. 


my  heel,  and  then  I  saw  Walker  make  a 
tremendous  spring  for  me,  with  an  expression 
of  alarm  in  his  face,  as  he  looked  beyond  me, 
that  made  me  make  a  half  turn.  And  that 
movement  saved  my  life.  I  felt  the  knife  of 
Matthias  enter  my  shoulder  like  a  red-hot 
iron,  and  then  it  was  wrenched  out  of  his 
hand  and  out  of  the  wound  by  Walker. 

In  a  moment  the  two  were  locked  together, 
and  in  another  they  were  separated  by  Mac- 
kenzie and  the  others;  and  Walker  stood 
smiling  with  the  knife  in  his  hand.  Although 
the  blood  was  running  down  my  body,  I  did 
not  feel  faint,  and  kept  my  eye  fixed  on  the 
course  kept  by  the  Vancouver^  while  Macken- 
zie held  me  in  his  arms,  and  Harmer  took  the 
lee  wheel  from  me. 

*'  Luff  a  little !  "  I  cried,  for  we  were  almost 
on  the  Point,  and  I  saw  a  rock  nearly  dead 
ahead.  "Luff  a  little!"  and  they  put  the 
helm  down  on  a  spoke  or  two. 

The  moments  crawled  by,  and  the  coast 


'I 


ON   BOARD   THE    VANCOUVER. 


45 


crawled  nearer  and  nearer,  as  I  began  to  feel 
1  was  going  blind  and  fainting.  But  I  clung 
to  life  and  vision  desperately,  and  the  last  I 
saNV  was  what  I  can  see  now,  and  shall  always 
see  as  plainly,  the  high  black  Point  with  its 
ring  of  white  water  crawl  aft  and  yet  nearer, 
aft  to  the  foremast,  aft  to  the  mainmast 
and  then  I  fell  and  knew  no  more.  For  w^e 
were  saved. 

When  I  came  to,  we  were  before  the  wind, 
and  I  lay  on  a  mattress  in  the  cabin.  Near 
me  was  Elsie,  and  by  her  Helen,  who  was  as 
white  as  death.  Both  were  watching  me,  and 
when  I  opened  my  eyes  Helen  fell  on  her 
knees  and  suddenly  went  crimson,  and  then 
white  again,  and  fainted.  But  Elsie  looked 
harder  and  sterner  than  I  had  ever  seen  her. 
I  turned  my  face  away,  and  near  me  I  saw 
another  mattress  with  a  covered  figure  on  it, 
the  figure  of  a  dead  man,  for  I  knew  the  shape. 
In  my  state  of  faintness  a  strange  and  horri- 
ble delirium  took  possession  of  me.    It  seemed 


'%' 


if 

IN ;' 


^If 


46 


TIIK   MATE   OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


m-' 


t 


iii ; 


i' 


as  if  what  I  saw  was  seen  only  by  myself,  and 
that  it  was  a  prophecy  of  my  death.  I  fainted 
again. 

When  I  came  to  we  were  at  anchor  in  San 
Francisco  Bay,  and  a  doctor  from  the  shore  was 
attending  to  me,  while  Mackenzie  stood  by, 
smiling  and  rubbing  his  hands  as  if  delighted 
to  get  me  off  them.  I  looked  at  him,  and  he 
knelt  down  by  me. 

"  Mackenzie,  old  man,"  I  whispered, "  didn't 
I  see  somebody  dead  here  ? " 

"Aye,  poor  chap,"  he  answered,  brush- 
ing away  a  tear ;  "  it  was  poor  Wal- 
ker." 

"  Walker ! "  I  said.     "  How  was  that  ? " 

"  Accident,  sir,"  said  old  Mac.  "  Just  as 
we  rounded  the  Point  and  you  fainted,  the 
old  bark  gave  a  heavy  roll  as  we  put  her 
before  the  wind,  and  Walker,  as  he  was  stand- 
ing with  that  black  dog's  knife  in  his  hand, 
slipped  and  fell.  The  blade  entered  his 
body,  and  all  he  said  after  was,  ^  It  was  his 


ON    BOARD   THK   VANCOUVER. 


47 


knife  after  all.  He  threatened  to  do  for  me 
yesterday.' " 

"  Where's  Will  ? "  I  asked,  when  he  ended, 
for  I  was  somehow  anxious  to  save  n.y 
Ijrother's  credit,  and  I  shouldn't  have  liked 
to  see  him  dismissed  from  the  ship. 

"  He's  on  deck  now,  as  busy  as  the  devil  in 
a  gale  of  wind,"  growled  Mackenzie.  "  'Tis 
he  that  saved  the  ship.  Oh,  he's  a  mighty 
man  ! — but  I  don't  sail  with  him  no  more." 

^^owever,  he  altered  his  mind  about  that. 

.  .,jW,  it  has  taken  me  a  long  time  to  get  to 
this  point,  and  perhaps  if  I  had  been  a  better 
navigator  in  the  waters  of  story-telling  I  might 
have  done  just  what  Will  didn't  do,  and  have 
missed  all  the  trouble  of  beating  to  windward 
to  get  round  to  this  part  of  my  story.  I  might 
have  put  it  all  in  a  few  words,  perhaps,  but 
then  I  like  people  to  understand  what  I  am 
about,  and  it  seems  to  me  necessary.  If  it 
isn't,  I  dare  say  someone  will  tell  me  one 
of  these  days.     At  any  rate,  here  I  have  got 


i3  -r' 


P 

hi:. 


I-  •  » 


48 


THE   MATE   OF   THE   VANCOUVER. 


into  San  Francisco,  a  city  I  don't  like  by  the 
way,  for  it  is  a  rascally  place,  managed  by 
the  professional  politicians,  WjIO  are  the  worst 
men  in  it;  I  had  been  badly  wounded, 
and  the  Malay  was  in  prison,  and  (not 
having  moiiey)  he  was  likely  to  stay 
there. 

I  was  in  the  hospital  for  three  weeks,  and 
I  never  had  a  more  miserable  or  lonei^  time. 
If  I  had  not  been  stronger  in  constitution 
than  most  men  I  think  I  should  have  died,  so 
much  was  I  ^vorried  by  my  love  for  Elsie, 
who  was  going  away  thinking  me  a  scoundrel, 
Avho  had  tried  to  gain  tiie  i^ve  of  my 
l)rother's  wife.  Of  course  she  did  not  come 
near  me,  thouf;h  I  kncAv  the  Flemimrs  were 
still  in  the  city.  I  learnt  so  much  from  Will, 
who  had  the  grace  to  come  and  see  me, 
thanking  me,  too,  for  having  saved  the  Van- 
couver. 

"  You  must  get  well  soon,  Tom,"  said  he, 
for  I  need  you  very  much  just  now. 


a 


o 


!■'  Wl 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


49 


I  kept  sileuc^^  aud  lie  looked  at  me  in- 
quiringly. 

"  Will,"  I  said  at  length,  "  I  shall  never 
sail  with  you  again — I  can't  do  it." 

"  Why  not  ? "  he  cried,  in  a  loud  voice, 
which  made  the  nurse  come  up  and  request 
him  to  speak  in  a  little  lower  tone.  "  AVhy 
not  ?  I  can't  see  what  diiferejce  it  will  make, 
anything  that  hp:^  occurred." 

No,  he  did  not  see,  but  then  he  did  not 
know.  How  could  I  go  in  the  ship  again 
with  Helen  ?  Besides,  I  had  derermined  to 
will  Elsie  for  my  wife,  and  how  could  I  do 
that  if  I  let  her  go  no^v,  thinking  what  she 
«lid  of  me? 

"Well,  \\  ill,  I  can't  go,"  said  I  once  more; 
"  and  1  duii't  think  I  shall  0:0  lo  sea  amiin,  I 
am  sick  of  it." 

Will  stared,  and  \sdiistled,  and  laughed. 

"  Ho ! "  said  he ;  "  1  think  I  see  how  the 
land  lies.  You  are  i^'oins;  to  settle  in  British 
Columbia,  eh  ?     You  are  a  sly  dog,  but  I  can 


II 


\i  ;l 


m 


m 


Tny.  3tATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


m- 


[,<,y  -m: 


Oh 


see  through  you.  I  know  your  little  love- 
affair;  Helen  told  me  as  much  as  that  one 
day." 

"  Well,  then,  Will,"  I  answered  wearily,  for 
I  was  out  of  heart  lying  there,  "  if  you  know, 
you  can  understand  now  why  I  am  not  going 
to  sail  with  you.  But,  Will,'-  and  I  rose  on 
my  elbow,  hurting  myself  considerably  as  I 
did  so,  "  let  me  implore  you  not  to  drink  in 
future.  Have  done  with  it.  It  will  be  your 
ruin  and  your  Avife's — aye,  and  if  I  sailed 
with  you^  mine  as  well.  Give  me  your  hand, 
and  say  you  will  be  a  sober  man  for  the 
future,  and  then  I  shall  be  content  to  go 
where  I  must  go — aye,  and  where  I  will  go." 

He  gave  me  his  hand,  that  was  hot  with 
what  he  had  been  drinking  even  then  (it  was 
eleven  in  the  morning),  and  I  saw  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  I  will  try,  Tom,"  he  muttered ;  "  but " 

I  think  that  "  but "  was  the  saddest  word, 
and  the  most  prophetic,  1  ever  heard  on  any 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


^^m^ 


mail's  lips.  I  saw  liovv  vain  it  was,  and  turned 
away.  He  shook  hands,  and  went  without 
saying  more  than  "Good-by,  Tom."  I  saw 
him  tmce  after  that,  and  just  twice. 

By  the  time  I  was  out  of  the  hospital  the 
Vancouver  was  ready  to  go  to  sea,  being 
bound  to  Englmd;  and  she  might  have 
sailed  even  then,  only  it  "was  necessary  for 
Tom  Mackenzie  and  one  or  two  others  to  re- 
main as  witnesses  when  they  tried  Matthias 
for  stabbing  me.  I  shall  not  go  into  a  long 
description  of  the  trial,  for  I  have  read  in 
books  of  late  so  many  trial  scenes  that  I  fear 
I  should  not  have  the  patience  to  give  details, 
which,  after  all,  are  not  necessary,  since  the 
whole  affair  was  so  simple.  And  yet,  what 
followed  afterward  from  that  affair  I  can 
remember  as  brightly  and  distinctly  as  if  in 
a  glass — the  look  of  the  dingy  court,  the 
fierce  and  revengeful  eyes  of  Matthias,  who 
never  spoke  till  the  last,  and  the  appearance 
of  Helen  and  Fanny  (Elsie  was  not  there) — 


It' -I" 


52 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


when  the  judge  after  the  verdict  inflicted  a 
sentence  of  eighteen  months'  hard  Labor  on 
the  prisoner.  Perhaps  he  had  been  in  prison 
before,  and  knew  what  it  meant,  or  it  was 
simply  the  bitter  thought  of  a  revengeful 
Oriental  at  being  worsted  by  his  opponent ; 
but  when  he  heard  the  sentence,  he  leant 
forward  and  grasped  the  rail  in  front  of  him 
tightly,  and  spoke.  His  skin  was  dark  and 
yet  pallid,  the  perspiration  stood  in  beads  on 
his  forehead,  he  bit  his  lips  until  blood  came, 
while  his  eyes  looked  more  like  the  eyes  of  a 
human  beast  than  those  of  a  man.  This  is 
what  he  said  as  he  looked  at  me,  and  he 
spoke  Avith  a  strange  intensity  which  hushed 
all  noise. 

"  When  I  come  out  of  jail  I  will  track  you 
night  and  day,  wherever  you  go  or  whatever 
you  do  to  escape  me.  Though  you  think  I 
do  not  know  where  you  are,  I  shall  always 
be  seeking  for  you,  and  at  last  I  shall  find 
you.     If  a  curse   of  mine  could  touch  you. 


ON   BOARD   THE  VANCOUVER. 


63 


you  should  rot  and  wither  no\v,  but  the  time 
will  come  when  my  haud  shall  strike  you 
down  !  " 

Such  was  the  meaning  of  what  he  said, 
although  it  was  not  put  exactly  as  I  have 
here  written  it  down  ;  and  if  I  confess,  as  I 
should  have  to  do  at  last  before  the  end  of 
this  story  comes,  that  the  words  and  the  way 
they  w^ere  spoken — spoken  so  vehemently 
and  with  so  fixed  a  resolution — made  me 
shiver  and  feel  afraid  in  a  way  I  had  never 
done  before,  I  hope  nobody  will  blame  me ; 
but  I  am  sure  that  being  in  love  makes  a 
coward  of  a  man  in  many  ways,  and  in  one 
moment  I  saw  myself  robbed  of  life  and  Jove 
just  at  their  fruition.  I  beheld  myself  clasp- 
ing Elsie  to  my  bosom,  having  won  from  her 
at  last  an  avowal  of  her  love,  and  then 
stabbed  or  shot  in  her  arms.  Ah  !  it  was 
dreadful  the  number  of  fashions  my  mind 
went  to  work,  in  a  quick  fever  of  black  ap- 
prehension, to  foretell   or   foresee   my   own 


m 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


[  '.L  'I 


i'tmiii 


possible  doom.  I  had  never  thought  myself 
cowardly,  but  then  I  seemed  to  see  w^hat 
death  meant  better  than  I  had  ever  done; 
and  often  the  coward  is  what  he  is,  as  I  think 
now,  from  a  vivid  imaginatioii,  which  so 
many  of  us  lack.  I  went  out  of  the  court  in 
a  strange  whirl,  for  you  see  I  had  only  just 
recovered.  If  I  had  been  quite  well  I  might 
have  laughed  instead  of  feeling  as  I  did. 
But  I  did  not  langh  then. 

Now,  on  the  next  morning  the  Vancouver 
was  to  leave  the  harbor,  being  then  at  anchor 
off  Goat  Island.  All  the  money  that  was 
due  to  me  I  had  taken,  for  AVill  had  given 
me  my  discharge,  and  I  sent  home  for  what  I 
had  saved,  being  quite  uncertain  what  I 
should  do  if  I  followed  Elsie  to  British 
Columbia.  And  that  night  I  saw  the  last  of 
AVill,  the  last  I  ever  saw%  little  thinking  then 
how  his  fate  and  mine  were  bound  up  to- 
gether, nor  what  it  was  to  be.  Helen  was 
wdth  him,  and  I  think  if  he  had  been  sober 


ON  BOARD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


55 


or  even  gentle  with  her  in  his  drink,  she 
would  have  never  spoken  to  me  again  as  she 
did  on  that  day  when  she  believed  that  life 
was  nearly  at  its  end  for  both  of  us.  But 
Will,  having  finished  all  his  business,  had 
begun  to  drink  again,  and  was  in  a  vile 
temper  as  we  sat  in  a  room  at  the  American 
Exchange  Hotel,  where  I  was  staying. 
Helen  tried  to  prevent  his  drinking. 

"  Will,"  she  said,  in  rather  a  hard  voice 
from  the  constraint  she  put  on  herself,  "  you 
have  had  enough  of  drink,  we  had  better  go 
on  board." 

"Go  on  board  yourself,"  said  he,  "and 
don't  jaw  me!  I  wish  I  had  left  you  in 
Australia.  A  Avoman  on  board  [?  ship  is  like 
a  piano  in  the  foc's'le.  Come  and  have  a 
drink,  Tom." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  I  said  ;  "  I  have  had 
quite  enough." 

And  out  he  went,  standing  drinks  at  the 
bar  to   half  a  dozen,  some  of  whom  would 


56 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


IIS;.'  ■ 

m: 
m 


in 
I-)','  '• 


have  cut  his  throat  for  a  dollar,  I  dare  say,  by 
the  looks  of  them.  Then  Helen  came  over 
and  sat  do^vn  by  me. 

"  I  have  never  spoken  to  you,  Tom,"  she 
began,  and  then  she  stopped,  "  since — you 
know,  since  tl'at  dreadful  day  outside  there," 
and  she  pointed,  just  like  a  woman  who 
never  knows  the  bearings  of  a  place  until  she 
has  reckoned  out  how  the  house  points  first, 
to  the  East  when  she  meant  the  West,  "  and 
nvjw  I  feel  I  must,  because  I  may  never  have 
the  chance  again." 

She  took  out  her  handkerchief,  although 
she  was  dry-eyed,  and  twisted  it  into  a  regu- 
lar ground-swell  knot,  until  I  saw  the  stuff 
give  way  here  and  there.  She  seemed  un- 
able to  go  on,  and  perhaps  she  would  not 
have  said  more  if  we  hadn't  heard  Will's 
voice,  thick  with  drink,  as  he  demanded  more 
liquor. 

"  Hear  him  ! "  she  said  hurriedly,  "  hear 
the  man  who  is  my  husband  !     What  a  fool  I 


ON   BOARD   THE   VANCOUVER. 


fi7 


was  !  You  don't  kuow,  but  I  was.  And  I 
am  his  wife !  Ah !  I  could  kill  him !  I 
could  !     I  could  ! " 

I  was  horrified  to  see  the  passion  she  was 
in ;  it  seemed  to  have  a  touch  of  real  male 
fury  in  it,  just  as  when  a  man  is  trying  to 
control  himself,  feeling  that  if  one  more  prov- 
ocation is  given  him  he  will  commit  murder, 
for  she  shook  and  shivered,  and  her  voice 
was  strangely  altered. 

And  just  then  Will  came  back,  demand- 
ing with  an  oath  if  she  was  ready  to  go. 
She  never  spoke,  but  I  should  have  been 
sorry  to  have  any  woman  look  at  me  as  she 
did  at  him  when  his  eyes  *  were  off  her.  I 
shook  hands  with  her  and  with  him,  for  the 
last  time,  and  they  went  away. 

Next  morning,  being  lonely  and  having 
nothing  to  do  I  went  out  to  the  park,  made 
on  the  o^reat  sand-dunes  which  runs  from  the 
higher  city  to  the  ocean  beach  and  the  Cliff 
House  on  the  south  side  of  the  Golden  Gate. 


ii 


08 


THE  MATE  OF  TIIK   VANCOUVER. 


.;.]' 


r;.'-. 

il\"^ 


m 


For  the  sake  of  a  quiet  think  I  went  out  by 
the  cars,  and  walked  to  a  place  where  few 
ever  came  but  chance  visitors,  except  on 
Sunday.  It  is  just  at  the  bend  of  the  great 
drive  and  a  little  above  the  road,  where 
there  is  a  large  tank  with  a  wooden  top, 
which  makes  a  good  seat  from  which  one 
can  see  back  to  San  Francisco  and  across  the 
bay  to  Oakland,  Saucelito,  and  the  other 
little  watering-places  in  the  bay ;  or  before 
one,  toward  the  opening  of  the  Golden 
Gate,  and  the  guns  of  Alcatraz  Island,  where 
the  military  prison  is.  Here  I  took  my  seat 
and  looked  out  on  the  quiet  beautiful  bay 
and  the  sea  just  breaking  in  a  line  of  foam 
on  the  beach  beneath  me.  The  sight  of  the 
ships  at  anchor  was  rather  melancholy  to  me, 
for  my  life  had  been  on  the  sea.  It  seemed 
as  if  a  new  and  unknown  life  were  before 
me ;  and  a  sailor  starting  anything  ashore  is 
as  strange  as  though  some  inveterate  dweller 
in  a  city  should  go  to  sea.    There  were  one 


ON  BOAliD  THE  VANCOUVER. 


69 


or  two  white  sails  outside  the  Heads,  and 
one  vessel  was  being  towed  in  ;  there  was  a 
broad  wake  from  the  Saucelito  ferry-boat, 
and  far  out  to  sea  I  saw  the  low  Farallones 
lying  like  a  cloud  on  the  horizon.  It  was 
beyond  them  that  my  new  life  had  begun, 
really  begun ;  and  though  the  day  was  fair, 
I  knew  not  how  soon  foul  weather  might 
overtake  me,  and  I  knew  indeed  that  it  could 
only  be  postponed  unless  fate  were  very 
kind.  I  don't  know  how  long  I  sat  on  that 
tank  drumming  on  the  hollow  wood,  as  I  idly 
picked  up  the  pebbles  from  the  ground  and 
threw  them  down  into  the  road ;  but  at  last 
I  saw  what  I  had  partly  been  waiting  for — 
the  Vancouver  being  towed  out  to  sea.  I 
had  no  need  to  look  at  her  twice ;  I  knew 
every  rope  in  her,  and  every  patch  of  paint, 
to  say  nothing  of  her  masts  being  ranked  a 
little  more  than  is  usual  nowadays.  I  had 
no  glass  with  me,  but  I  fancied  I  could  see  a 
patch  of  color  on  her  poop  that  was  Helen. 


60 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


»,.'>. 


s)- 


I'-tj 


i;?! 


M:  ■ 


\m 


I  watched  the  vessel  which  had  been  my 
home — and  which,  but  for  me,  would  have 
been  lying  a  wreck  over  yonder — for  more 
than  an  hour,  and  tlien  I  turned  to  go  home, 
if  I  can  call  an  American  hotel  "  home  "  by 
strained  politeness,  and  just  then  I  saw  a 
carnage  come  along.  No^v,  I  knew  as  well 
before  I  could  distinguish  them  that  Elsie, 
Fanny,  and  her  father  ^vere  in  that  carriage, 
as  I  did  that  Helen  was  on  board  the 
Vancouver;  and  I  sat  down  again  feeling 
veiy  faint — I  suppose  from  the  effects  of 
my  wound,  or  the  illness  that  came  from  it. 
The  carriage  had  almost  passed  beneath  me 
— and  I  felt  Elsie  saw  me,  though  she  made 
no  sign — before  Mr.  Fleming  caught  sight  of 
me. 

"  Hi !  stop  !  "  he  called,  and  the  driver 
drew  up.  "  Why,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  is  that 
you  ?  I  thought  the  Vancouver  had  gone  ? 
Besides,  how  does  a  mate  find  time  to  be 
out     here?      Things    must     have     changed 


ON   BOATID   THE  VANCOUVER. 


ftt 


e 


since  I  was  at  sea.  Come  down !  Come 
down ! " 

I  did  so,  and  shook  hands  with  them  all, 
though  Elsie's  hand  lay  in  mine  like  a  dead 
tiling  until  she  drew  it  away. 

"The  Vancouver  has  gone,  Mr.  Fleming," 
said  I ;  "  and  there  she  is — look  ! " 

They  rJl  turned,  and  Elsie  kept  her  eyes 
fixed  on  it  when  the  others  looked  at  me 
again. 

"Well,"  said  Fleming,  "what  does  it  all 
mean  ?  Y^here  are  you  going  ?  Back  to 
town  ?  That's  right,  get  in ! "  And  without 
more  ado  the  old  man,  who  had  the  grip  of 
a  vise,  caught  hold  of  me,  and  in  I  came  like 
a  bale  of  cotton,     "  Drive  on  !  " 

"  Now  then,"  he  went  on,  "  you  can  tell  us 
why  you  didn't  go  with  them." 

I  paused  a  minute,  watching  Elsie. 

"Well,  Mr.  Fleming,"  I  said  at  last,  "you 
see  I  didn't  quite  agree  with  my  brother." 

"  H'm ! — calls  taking  the  command  from 


lip 


II 


mi:-/ 


m- 


IH,'-'', 


62 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


the  captain  not  quite  agreeing  \vitL  liim," 
chuckled  Fleming  ;  "  but  1  thought  you  made 
it  up,  didn't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  we  made  it  up,  but  I  wouldn't  sail 
wdth  him  any  more.  I  had  more  than  one 
reason." 

Again  I  looked  at  Elsie,  and  she  'ivas,  I 
thought,  a  little  pleasanter,  though  she  did 
not  speak.  But  Fanny  pinched  her  arm,  I 
could  see  that,  and  looked  roguishly  at  me. 
However,  Mr.  Fleming,  did  not  notice  that 
byplay. 

"  Well,  he  said,  a  trifle  drilv  as  I  fancied, 
"  I  won't  put  you  through  your  catechism, 
except  to  ask  you  in  a  fatherly  kind  of  way  " 
(Elsie  looked  down  and  fro^vned)  "what  you 
are  going  to  do  now.  I  should  have  thought 
after  what  that  rascal  of  a  half-bred  Malay, 
or  whatever  he  is,  said,  that  you  would  have 
left  California  in  a  hurry." 

"Time  enough,  Mr.  Fleming — time  enough. 
1  have  eighteen  months  to  look  out  on  with- 


ON   BOAHD  THE   VANCOUVER. 


63 


7 

le 
b. 


out  fear  of  a  knife  in  my  ribs,  and  1  may  be 
in  China,  or  Alaska,  or  the  Rocky  Mountains 
then." 

You  see  I  wanted  to  give  them  a  hint  that 
I  might  turn  up  in  British  Columbia.  Fanny 
gave  me  a  better  chance  though,  and  I  could 
have  hugged  her  for  it. 

"  Or  British  Columbia  perhaps,  Mr.  Tice- 
hurst  ?  "  she  said  smiling  very  innocently. 

"  Who  knows,"  I  answered,  hastily ;  "when 
a  man  begins  to  travel,  there  is  no  knowing 
where  he  may  turn  up.  I  had  a  fancy  to  go 
to  Alaska,  though." 

For  the  way  to  Alaska  was  the  way  to 
British  Columbia,  and  I  did  not  want  to  sur- 
prise them  too  much  if  I  went  on  the  same 
steamer  as  far  as  Victoria.  And  in  four 
days  I  might  see  what  chance  I  really  had 
v/ith  Elsie. 

"  Well,"  said  the  father,  thoughtfully,  "  I 
don't  know,  and  can't  give  advice.  I  should 
have  thought  that  when  a  man  was  a  good 


64 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


m 


r  ■■.*.'■■- 


sailor  and  held  your  position  he  ought  to  stick 
to  it.     A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss." 
"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  but  I  am  tired  of  the 


ij 


sea. 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Fanny,  "  and  I  don't 
blame  you,  though  you  ought  to  go  with 
careless  captains  just  on  purpose  to  save 
jieople's  lives,  you  know,  Mr.  Ticehuist ;  for 
you  saved  ours,  and  I  think  some  of  us 
might  thank  you  better  than  by  sitting  like  a 
dry  stick  w^ithout  saying  a  word." 

With  this  she  dug  at  Elsie  with  her  elbow, 
smiling  sweetly  all  the  time. 

"Yes,"  said  Elsie,  "  and  there  is  Mr. 
Harmer  now  in  the  Vancouver.  Perhaps 
she  will  be  Avrecked." 

This  was  the  first  w^ord  she  had  spoken 
since  I  had  entered  the  carriage,  and  I 
recognized  by  its  spite  that  Elsie  was  a 
woman  not  above  having  a  little  revenge. 
For  poor  Fanny,  who  had  flirted  quite  a 
little  with  Harmer,  said  no  more, 


^<: 


ON  BOARD  THE   VANCOUVER. 


65 


They  put  down  at  their  hotel,  and  I  went 
inside  with  them. 

"Weli,"  said  Fleming,  "I  suppose  we 
shan't  see  you  again,  unless  you  do  as  Fanny 
says,  and  turn  up  in  our  new  country.  If 
you  do,  be  sure  we  shall  welcome  you.  And 
I  wish  you  well,  my  boy.'' 

I  shook  hands  with  them  again,  and 
turned  away ;  and  as  I  did  so,  I  noticed 
some  of  their  boxes  marked,  "Per  SS. 
Mexico^  Fanny  saw  me  looking,  and 
whispered  quickly,  as  she  passed  me,  "  Tom 
Ticehurst,  go  to  Mexico ! "  and  vanished, 
while  Elsie  stood  in  the  oraslight  for  a 
moment  as  if  in  indecision.  But  she  turned 
a^vay. 


: 


H-  ■ 

A'-  ■', 


^w 


Part  II. 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND    NORTHWARD. 


I  NEVER  felt  SO  miserable  and  so  inclined 
to  go  to  sea  to  forget  myself  in  hard  work 
as  I  did  that  evening  after  I  had  bidden 
farewell  to  Elsie  and  her  people.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  she  had  let  me  go  too  easily 
out  of  her  life  for  her  to  really  care  for  me 
enough  to  make  her  influence  my  course  in 
the  way  I  had  hoped,  and  hoped  still. 
Indeed,  I  think  that  if  she  had  not  stayed 
that  one  undecided  moment  after  she 
withdrew  her  hand  from  mine,  I  should  have 
never  done  what  I  did  do,  but  have  looked 
for  a  ship  at  once.  For,  after  all,  I  said  to 
myself,  what  could  a  modest  girl  do  more  ? 
Why,  under  the  circumstances,  when  she 
thought  me  guilty  of  a  deliberate  crime, 
hateful  to  any  woman,  to  say  nothing  of  my 

67 


w 


my 


PI;: 


68  THE   MATE   OF   THIO   VANCOUVER. 

having  made  love  to  her  at  the  same  time,  it 
was  really  more  than  I  could  have  exj)ected 
or  hoped.  It  showed  that  I  had  a  h^ld  upon 
her  affections;  and  then  Fanny  thought  so 
too,  or  she  would  have  never  said  what  she 
did.  "  Go  to  Mexico  ! "  indeed  ;  if  I  wasn't 
a  fool,  it  was  not  Mexico  the  country,  but 
Mexico  the  steamer  she  meant.  I  had  one 
ally,  at  any  rate.  Still,  I  wondered  if  she 
knew  what  Elsie  did,  though  I  thought  not, 
for  she  alone  kissed  Helen  when  they  said 
good-by,  and  Elsie  had  only  given  her  her 
hand  unwillingly.  If  I  could  speak  to 
Fanny  it  might  help  me.  But  I  was 
detennined  to  go  northward,  and  sent  my 
dunnage  down  on  board  the  steamer  that 
very  evening. 

In  the  morning,  and  early,  for  I  lay  awake 
all  that  night,  a  thing  I  did  not  remember 
having  done  before,  I  went  down  on  the 
Front  at  the  bottom  of  Market  Street,  where 
all  the  tram  cars  start,  and  walked  to  and  fro 


m'*' 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND   NORTHWARD. 


69 


for  some  hours  along  the  wharves  where  they 
discharge  lumber,  or  ship  the  coal.  It  was 
quite  a  bright  morning  in  the  late  autumn, 
and  everything  was  pleasant  to  look  upon  in 
the  pure  air  before  it  was  f'^uled  by  the  oaths 
of  the  drivers  of  wagons  and  the  jar  of  traffic. 
Yet  tliat  same  noise,  which  came  dimly  to  me 
until  I  was  almost  run  over  by  a  loaded 
wagon,  pleased  me  a  great  deal  better  than 
the  earlier  quiet  of  the  morning,  and  by  eight 
o'clock  I  was  in  a  healthy  frame  of  mind, 
healthy  enough  to  help  three  men  Avith  a 
heavy  piece  of  lumber  just  by  way  of  exei- 
cise.  I  went  back  to  my  room,  washed  my 
hands,  had  breakfast,  and  \vent  on  board  the 
steamer,  careless  if  the  Flemings  saw  me, 
though  at  first  I  had  determined  to  keep  out 
of  their  way  until  tlie  vessel  was  at  sea.  T 
thanked  my  stars  that  I  did  so,  for  I  saw 
Fanny  by  herself  on  deck,  and  when  she 
caught  sight  of  me  she  clapped  her  hands  and 
smiled. 


11 


■Ml 


70 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


'T',' 

i'"-^'; 


m 

0  •■• 


'^a^'^ 


ii  1 


IS'-' 

h'  -'■-■ 
IS:''- 
i'fi 


I*:.' 


"Well,  and  where  are  you  going,  Mr. 
Ticeliurst  ?  "  said  she,  nodding  at  me  as  if  she 
guessed  my  secret. 

"  I  am  going  to  take  your  advice  and  go  to 
Mexico ! "  I  answered. 

"  Is  it  far  here  ?  By  land  do  you  go,  or 
water  ? " 

"  Not  far,  Fanny  ;  in  fact " 

"You  are " 

"  There  now  ! "  said  I,  laughing  in  my  turn. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad,  Mr.  Ticehurst ! "  said 
she  ;  "  for "  and  then  she  stopped. 

"  For  what,  Fanny  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  tell  you.  I  should  be  a 
traitor,  and  that  is  cowardly." 

"  No,  Fanny,  not  when  we  are  friends.  If 
you  tell  me,  would  you  do  any  harm  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered  doubtfully. 

"  Then  treachery  is  meant  to  do  harm,  and 
if  you  don't  mean  harm  it  isn't  treachery,"  I 
replied  coaxingly,  but  with  bad  logic  as  I  have 
been  told  since. 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   NORTHWARD. 


71 


"  Well,  then,  perhajjs  I'll  say  something. 
Now  suppose  you  liked  me  very  much " 

"  So  I  do,  Fanny,  I  swear  ! " 

"  No  you  don't,  stupid  !  How  can  you  ? 
I'm  not  twins — that  is,  I  and  somebody  else 
aren't  the  same — so  don't  interrupt.  Sup- 
pose you  liked  me  very  much,  and  I  liked 
you  very  much " 

"  It  would  be  very  nice,  I  dare  say,"  I  said, 
in  a  doubtful  way  that  was  neither  diplo- 
matic nor  complimentary. 

"  And  suppose  you  went  off,  and  suppose  I 
didn't  speak  to  my  sister  for  hours,  and  kept 
on  being  a  nasty  thing  by  tossing  and  tum- 
bling about  all  night,  so  that  she,  poor  girl, 
couldn't  go  to  sleep ;  and  then  suppose  when 
she  did  go  off  nicely,  she  woke  up  to  find  me 
— what  do  you  think — ciying,  what  would  it 
mean  ? " 

"Fanny,"  I   exclaimed,    in    delight,    "you 
are  a  dear  girl,  the  very  dearest— 
^    "  No,"  she  said,  "  no  !  " 


71 


iiil 


72 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


-K>'      ■-■■ 


"That  I  ever  saw.  If  there  weren't  so 
many  folks  about,  I  would  kiss  you  ! " 

And  I  meant  it,  but  Fanny  burst  into 
laughter. 

"  The  idea !  I  should  like  to  see  you  try  it. 
I  would  box  your  ears  till  they  were  as  red 
as  beetroot.  But  there,  Tom,  I  am  glad  you 
are  coming  on  this  dirty  steamer.  For  I 
have  no  one  to  talk  to  now  but  Elsie,  and 
she  won't  talk  at  all." 

However,  Fanny's  little  woes  did  nut 
trouble  me  much,  for  I  was  thinking  of  my 
own,  and  wondering  how  I  ought  to  act. 

"  Fanny,"  said  I,  "  tell  me  what  I  shall  do. 
Shall  I  lie  low  and  not  show  up  until  we  are 
out  at  sea,  or  what  ? " 

"  If  you  don't  want  them  to  see  you,  you 
had  better  look  sharp,  for  they  are  coming 
up  now,  I  see  Elsie's  hat,"  said  Fanny.  And 
I  dived  out  of  sight  round  the  deck  house, 
and  by  dint  of  skillful  navigation  I  got  into 
my  bunk  without  any  one  seeing  me. 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   NORTHWARD. 


73 


I'V 


Now,  the  way  Elsie  found  out  I  was  on 
board  was  very  curious,  and  perhaps  more 
pleasing  to  Fanny  than  to  her.  My  bunk 
was  an  upper  one,  and  through  the  open  port- 
hole I  could  look  out  on  to  the  wharf.  As  I 
lay  there,  in  a  much  happier  frame  of  mind 
than  I  had  known  for  many  days,  I  stared 
out  carelessly,  watching  the  men  at  work, 
and  the  passers-by;  and  suddenly  to  my 
great  astonishment,  I  saw  young  Harmer 
looking  very  miserable  and  unhappy.  He 
had  left  the  Vancouver ,  too,  but  of  course 
without  leave,  as  he  was  an  apprentice.  Now, 
if  I  was  surprised  I  was  angry,  too.  It  was 
such  a  foolish  trick,  and  I  thought  I  would 
give  him  a  talking  to  at  once.  I  spoke 
through  the  port. 

"  You  infernal  young  fool ! "  said  I,  "  what 
are  you  doing  here  ?  Why  did  you  leave 
your  ship  ? " 

If  ever  I  saw  a  bewildered  face  it  was 
Harmer' s.     For  some  seconds  he  looked  every- 


I 


74 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


where  for  the  voice,  aticl  could  not  locate  it 
either  on  the  whai-f,  deck,  or  anywhere 
else. 

"Yon  ought  to  be  ropeVended  for  an 
idiot ! "  I  went  on,  and  then  he  saw  part 
of  my  face,  but  without  knowing  who  I  was. 
He  flushed  crimson,  and  looked  like  a  young 
turkey  cock,  with  his  wings  down  and  his  tail 
up. 

"Who  the  devil  are  you,  anyhow,"  he 
asked  fiercely,  "You  come  out  here  and  I'll 
pull  your  ugly  head  off !  " 

"  Thank  you,"  I  answered  calmly,  "  my 
head  is  of  more  use  to  me  than  yours  is, 
apparently ;  and  if  you  don't  know  my  voice, 
it  belongs  to  Tom  Ticehurst ! " 

Ilarmer  jumped. 

"  Hurrah  !  Oh,  I'm  so  glad.  I  was  looking 
for  you,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  and  hunting  every- 
where." 

"  And  not  for  anyone  else,  I  suppose  ? "  I 
put  in,  and  then  I  saw  him  look  up.     I  knew 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   NORTHWARD. 


75 


just  as  well  as  he  did  that  he  saw  Faiiuy,  and 
I  hoped  that  Elsie  was  not  with  her.  But 
she  was. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Miss  Fleming  ? "  said  he 
nervously  ;  "  and  you,  Miss  Fanny  ?  I  hope 
you  are  well.  I  was  just  talking  to  Mr. 
Ticehurst." 

I  swore  a  little  at  this,  and  tumbled  out  of 
my  bunk,  and  went  on  deck  to  face  the  music, 
as  the  Americans  say,  and  I  got  behind  the 
girls  in  time  to  hear  the  little  hypocrite  Fanny 
say  sweetly : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Hanner,  you  must  be  mistaken, 
I'm  sure  !  Mr.  Ticehui'st  if  going  to  Mexico 
or  somewhere.     He  can't  be  here." 

"Miss  Fanny,"  said  the  boy  earnestly, 
"  I  tell  you  he  is,  and  there — just  behind 
you.     By  Jove,  I  am  coming  on  board  ! " 

And  he  scrambled  up  the  side  like  a 
monkey,  as  Elsie   turned  and  saw  me. 

I  said  good -morning  to  her  and  we  shook 
hands.     I  could   see  she  was  nervous,  and 


.  '     III 


II 


;!:;  i 


76 


TITK   MATP:   OP^   the   VANCOUVER. 


fancied  I  could  see  traces  of  wliat  Fanuy, 
who  talked  hard,  had  told  me. 

'Dear  me,  Mr.  Ticehiut>t ! "  said  Fanny 
vigorously.  "  You  didn't  shake  hands  with 
me,  and  see  the  time  it  is  since  we  last  met ! 
Why,  was  it  yesterday,  or  when  ?  But  men 
are  so  forgetful.  \  never  did  like  boys 
when  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  I  shall  keep 
it  up.  Yes,  Mr.  Harmer,  now  I  can  shake 
hands,  for  not  having  arms  ten  feet  long  I 
couldn't  reach  yours  over  the  rail,  though 
you  did  hold  thein  out  like  a  signal 
post." 

Then  she  and  Harmer  talked,  and  I  lost 

iiat  thev  said, 

"Where  is  vour  father,  Khs  Flemincj?" 
I  asked,  for  thonq;h  I  felt  obliged  to  talk, 
I  could  say  nothing  but  that  unless  I  re- 
marked it  was  a  fine  day.  But  it  had  been 
fine  for  six-months  in  California. 

"He  went  ashore,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  and  won't 
be  back  until  the  steamer   is  nearly  ready  to 


SAX    FHANCI8C0   AND    NOllTHWAKD. 


77 


go.  But  now  I  must  go  down.  Come, 
Fanny ! " 

"  AYhat  for  i  "  deiaanded  that  young  lady. 
"  Fm  not  cominf*:,  I  sliall  stav  ;  I  like  tlie 
deck,  and  hate  the  cabin — nasty  stuffy  hole  ! 
I  shall  not  go  doAvn;  as  the  pilot  told  the 
man  in  the  stupid  song:  ^I  shall  pace  the 
deck  with  thee,'  Mi*.  Ticehurst,  please." 

"Thaidv  you,  Fanny,"  said  I;  'Mjut  I 
want  to  talk  to  Ilarmer  here  befoi'e  the 
steamer  goes,  and  if  you  Avill  go  with  your 
sister  perhaps  it  ^vill  be  best." 

She  pouted  and  looked  about  her,  and 
with  a  j)a]'ting  smile  for  Ilarmer,  and  a 
mouth  for  me,  she  followed  Elsie.  I  turned 
to  the  lad. 

"  Now,"  T  began,  "  you're  a  nice  boy ! 
What  does  it  all  mean  ?" 

"It  means  that  I  couldn't  stay  on  th(^ 
Vanvouver  if  you  Avei'en't  there,  Mr.  Tice- 
liurst.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  that  tlie  mo- 
ment I  heard  you  were  leavino:.     I  will  12:0 


.'4 


w 


ill    §i 


III 


% 


m 


\'y'-' 


78 


THE   MATE   OF   THE    VANCOUVER. 


liii 


on  your  nf^xt  ship ;  but  yc>u  know,  if  you 
don't  mind  my  saying  it,  I  couldn't  stand 
your  brother;  I  would  lather  be  struck  l>y  yoii 
than  called  a  cub  by  him.  A  '  (Mh,  itideed 
— I  am  as  big  a^  he  is,  and  bigger '  ^ 

So  he  was,  m^d  a  fine  handsome  a^  into 
the  bargain,  witk  curly  brown  hair,  IliMigh 
his  features  were  a  little  too  feminine  for  his 
size  and  strength. 

"Harmer,"  I  said  drily  "I  think  you  have 
done  it  now  very  coni[)letely.  This  is  my 
next  ship,  and  I  am  a  passenger  in  her." 

He  didn't  seem  to  mind ;  in  fact,  he  took  it 
so  coolly  that  I  began  to  think  he  knew. 

"That  doesn't  matter,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  he 
said  cheerfully  ;  "  I  will  come  with  you." 

I  stared. 

"  The  devil  you  v/ill !  Do  you  know 
^vhere  I  am  going,  what  I  am  going  to  do  ? — 
or  have  you  any  plans  of  your  own  cut  and 
dried  for  me  ? " 

"  I   don't   see   that   it   matters,  Mr.   Tice- 


T 


SAN  FRANCISCO   AND   NORTHWARD. 


79 


hurst,"  he  auswered,  with  n  coolness  I  ad- 
mired  ;  "  I  have  more  than  enough  to  j)ay 
my  fare,  and  if  you  go  to  British  Cohun- 
hia  I  dare  say  I  can  get  something  to  do 
there." 

"  Ah  ?  I  see,"  I  replied ;  "  you  are  tired  of 
the  sea,  and  wouhl  like  to  marry  and  settle 
€J^>wn,  eh  ^i " 

He  looked  at  me,  and  l)lushed  a  little. 

"All  tli(3  more  reason  I  should  l^o  with 
vou,  sii  "or  then — then — there  would  be — 
you  know." 

"  What,  Harmer  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  A  pair  of  us,"  he  auHwered  humbly. 

"H'm,  yon  are  a  nice  boy  ^  What -will 
your  fathei*  say  if  he  hears  you  have  gone  off 
in  this  way  ? " 

Harmer  looked  at  me  and  laii'/hed. 

"  He  will  say  it  was  your  f«ult,  sir ! 
But  r  had  })etter  get  my  dunnage  on 
board." 

And  away  he  went. 


;  .it* 
ill 


80 


THE   MATE   OF   THE   VANCOUVER. 


I'i"  <  i 


"  HaiTiier,  come  back ! "  I  cried,  but  he 
only  turned,  nodded  cheerfully,  and  disap- 
peared in  the  .crowd. 

On  the  whole,  although  the  appearance  of 
Ilarnier  added  a  new  responsibility  to  tliose 
^vhich  were    already  a    sufficient    burden,  I 

4.'  ' 

was  not  Ill-pleased,  for  I  thoroughly  liked 
him,  and  had  parted  with  him  very  unwill- 
ingly ^vhen  I  shook  his  hand  on  board  the 
Vancouver  for  the  last  time,  as  I  thought 
then.  At  any  rate,  he  would  be  a  companion 
for  me,  and  if  by  having  to  look  after  him  I 
was  prevented  in  any  measure  from  becoming 
selfish  about  Elsie,  I  might  thank  his  l^oyish 
foolishness  in  being  unaljle  to  prevent  him- 
self running  after  Fanny,  w^hom,  to  say  the 
truth,  I  considered  a  little  flirt,  though  a  dear 
little  girl.  And,  then,  Harmer  might  be  able 
to  help  me  with  Elsie.  It  was  something  to 
have  somebody  al)out  that  I  could  trust  in 
case  of  accident. 

It  was  nearer  eleven  than  ten  when   the 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND    NOKTIIWARD. 


81 


steamer's  whistle  shrieked  for  the  last  time, 
and  the  crew  began  to  haul  the  ^varpw  on 
board.  I  could  see  that  Elsie  and  Fanny 
Avere  beginning  to  think  that  their  father 
would  arrive  too  late,  when  I  saw"  him  coming 
along  the  wdiarf  with  Harmer  just  behind 
him.  Up  to  this  time  I  really  believed  Mr. 
Fleming,  with  the  curious  innocence  that 
fathers  often  sho^v,  even  those  who  from  their 
antecedents  and  character  might  be  expected 
to  know  better,  had  never  thought  of  me  as 
beino;  his  dauo-hter's  lover ;  but  a\  hen  he  had 
joined  his  daughters  on  the  hurricane  deck, 
and  caught  sight  of  liarmer  and  myself 
standing  on  the  main,  I  saw  in  a  moment 
that  he  knew  almost  as  much  as  we  could  tell 
him,  and  that  for  a  few  seconds  he  was  doubt- 
ful whether  to  laugh  or  to  be  angry.  I  saw 
him  look  at  me  sternly  for  a  few  seconds, 
then  lie  shook  his  head  Avitli  a  very 
mixed  smile  on  his  wcathcM'-beaten  face,  and, 
sitting  down  on  the  nearest  bench,  he  burst 


: 


illii; 


-'•l»H 


•ilk-'/''' 


i;  ft  . 


«i;i 


83 


THE  MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


into  laughter.  I  went  up  the  poop  ladder 
and  caught  Fanny's  words : 

■'  Why,  father,  \vliat  is  the  matter  with 
you?  Don't  laugh  so,  all  the  people  will 
think  you  crazy  ?  " 

"So  I  am,  my  dear,  clean  orazy,"  he  an- 
swered ;  "  because  I  fancied  I  saw  Tom  Tice- 
hurst  and  young  Harmer down  on  deck  there, 
and  of  course  it  is  impossible,  I  know  that — 
quite  impossible.  It  was  an  hallucination. 
For  what  could  they  want  here,  I  should  like 
to  know?  You  don't  know,  of  course? 
Well,  well,  I  am  surprised  ! " 

Just  then  I  came  up  and  showed  myself, 
looking  quite  easy,  though  I  confess  to  feel- 
inix  more  like  a  fool  than  I  remember  doinsj 
since  I  was  a  boy. 

"  Oh,  then  you  CD^e  here,  Ticehurst  ? "  said 
the  old  man.  "  It  wasn't  a  vision,  after  all. 
I  was  just  telling  Fanny  liere  that  I  thought 
I  was  going  off  my  head." 

I  laughed. 


! 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND   NORTH  Wi'.RD. 


83 


"  Why,  Ml".  Fleming,"  I  said,  ''  is  it  im- 
possible that  I,  too,  should  go  to  Victoria,  on 
my  way  to  A^'iska?" 

Fleming  looked  at  me  curiously,  and  al- 
most winked.  "Ah!  Alaska,  to  be  sure," 
said  he.  "You  did  speak  of  Alaska.  It 
must  be  a  nice  place.  You  will  be  quite 
close  to  us.     Come  over  and  give  us  a  call." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  invitation,"  I  replied, 
laughing.  "  I  will  come  to  tea,  and  bring  my 
young  friend  with  me." 

For  Harmer  now  walked  up,  shook  hands 
with  the  old  man  in  the  most  ordinary  way, 
and  sat  down  between  him  and  Fanny  with 
a  coolness  I  could  not  have  imitated  for  my 
life.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to  think  of  the 
amount  of  impudence  boys  have  from  seven- 
teen to  twenty-three  or  so ;  they  will  do 
things  a  man  of  thirty  would  almost  faint  to 
attempt,  and  succeed  because  they  don't 
know  the  risk  they  run.  Hai'mer  was  soon 
engaged  in  talk  with  Fanny,  and  I  tried  in 


ii 


I'iil 


■''it:.»,,-  '- 


m 


m 

''1 


84 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


vain  to  imitate  him.  I  found  Elsie  as  cold 
as  ice ;  I  could  make  no  impression  on  her 
and  was  almost  in  despair  at  the  very  outset. 
If  Fanny  had  told  me  the  truth  in  the  morn- 
ing, then  Elsie  held  a  great  command  over 
herself.  I  soon  gave  up  the  attack  and  re- 
treated to  my  berth,  where  I  smoked  sav- 
agely and  was  miserable.  You  can  see  I  did 
not  understand  much  about  women  then. 

The  passage  from  San  Francisco  to  Vic- 
toria takes  about  four  days,  and  in  that  time 
I  had  to  make  up  my  mind  what  I  was  go- 
ing to  do.  If  what  Fanny  said  were  true, 
Elsie  loved  me,  and  it  was  only  that  foolish 
and  wretched  affair  with  Helen  that  stood  in 
my  way.  Yet,  could  I  tell  the  girl  how 
matters  were  ?  It  seemed  to  me  then,  and 
seems  to  me  noAV,  that  I  was  bound  in  honor 
not  to  tell  her.  I  could  not  say  to  her  bru- 
tally that  my  brother's  wife  had  made  love  to 
me,  and  that  I  ^vas  AN'holly  blameless.  It 
would  be  cowardly,  and  }'et  I  ought  to  clear 


SAN   FRANCISCO  AND   NOKTllVVAllD. 


85 


myself.  It  was  an  awkward  dilemma. 
Then,  again,  it  was  quite  possible  that  Fanny 
was  mistaken ;  if  she  did  not  care  for  me,  it 
was  all  the  harder,  and  I  could  not  couit  her 
with  that  mark  against  me.  Yet  I  was 
determined  to  win  her,  and  as  I  sat  in  my 
berth  I  grew  fierce  and  savage  in  my  heart. 
I  s^vore  that  I  would  gain  her  over,  I  would 
force  her  to  love  me,  if  I  had  to  kill  any  who 
stood  in  my  way.  For  love  makes  a  man 
devilish  sometimes  as  Avell  as  good.  I  had 
come  on  board  saying,  "  If  I  see  no  chance 
to  win  her  before  I  get  to  \'ictoria,  I  will 
let  her  go."  And  now  when  we  were  just  out- 
side the  Golden  Gate,  I  s\vore  to  follow  her 
always.  "Yes,  even  if  she  spurns  me,  if 
she  mocks,  taunts  me,  I  will  make  her 
come  to  me  at  last,  put  her  arms  round  my 
neck,  and  ask  my  forgiveness."  I  said  this, 
and  unconsciously  I  added,  "  I  will  follow 
her  night  and  day,  in  sunshine  and  in  rain,  in 
health  or  sickness." 


"in 


r 


86 


Tin:    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


Then  I  started  violently,  for  I  was  using 
words  like  those  of  the  Malay,  who  was 
waiting  his  time  to  follow  nie,  and  for  ever 
in  the  daytime  or  nighttime  I  knew  he  was 
whetting  the  keen  edge  of  his  hate.  I  could 
see  him  in  his  cell ;  I  could  imagine  him 
recalling  my  face  to  mind,  for  I  knew  wdiat 
such  men  are.  I  had  served  as  second  mate 
in  a  vessel  that  had  been  manned  with 
Orientals  and  the  off-scourings  of  Singapore, 
such  as  Matthias  was,  and  I  knew  them  only 
too  well.  He  would  follow  me,  even  as  I 
followed  her,  and  as  she  was  a  light  before 
me,  he  would  be  a  dark  shadow  behind  me. 
I  wished  then  that  I  had  killed  him  on  board 
the  Vancouver^  for  I  felt  that  we  should  one 
day  meet ;  and  who  could  discern  what  our 
meeting  would  bring  forth  in  our  lives  ?  I 
know  that  from  that  time  forward  he  never 
left  me,  for  in  the  hour  that  I  vowed  to 
follow  Elsie  until  she  loved  me,  I  saw  very 
clearly  that  he  would  keep  his  word,  though 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   NOllTIIWARD. 


87 


he  had  but  strength  to  crawl  after  me  and 
kill  me  as  I  slept.  Henceforth,  he  was 
always  more  or  less  in  my  mind.  Yet,  if  I 
could  win  Elsie  first,  I  did  not  cjire.  It 
might  be  a  race  between  us,  and  her  love 
might  be  a  shield  to  protect  me  in  my  Ik  air 
of  need.  I  prayed  that  it  might  be  so, 
and  if  it  could  not,  then  at  least  let  me 
win  her  love  before  the  end. 

For  two  days  I  kept  out  of  the  Flemings' 
^vay,  or  rather  out  of  the  ^vay  of  the  girls, 
for    Mr.    Fleminfi*    himself     could    not    be 

o 

avoided,  as  he  slept  in  the  men's  berth  in  a 
\Aink  close  to  mine.  I  believe  that  the  first 
day  on  board  he  spoke  to  Elsie  about  me ; 
indeed  I  know  he  did,  for  I  heard  so  after- 
ward; and  I  think  it  was  only  on  her 
assurance  that  there  was  and  could  be 
nothing  between  us,  that  he  endured  the 
situation  so  easily.  In  the  first  place, 
although  he  was  not  rich,  he  was  fairly 
well    oft*    in    Austi  j»]i.'i :    and    thoug^h    the 


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88 


THE    MATE    OF   THE    VANCOUVER. 


•'I 
I'l, 


PI! 


British  Columbian  ranch  property  was 
not  equal  in  value  to  that  which  he  had 
made  for  himself,  yet  it  represented  a  sum 
of  money  such  as  I  could  not  scarcely  make 
in  many  years  in  these  hard  times.  It  would 
hardly  be  human  nature  for  a  father  to  look 
upon  me  as  the  right  sort  of  man  for  his 
daughter,  especially  since  I  was  such  a  fool 
as  to  quit  the  sea  without  anything  definite 
awaiting  me  on  land.  So,  I  say,  that  if  he 
had  thought  that  Elsie  loved  me  I  might 
have  found  him  a  disagreeable  companion, 
and  it  was  no  consolation  to  me  to  see  that 
he  treated  me  in  a  sort  of  half-contemptuous, 
half-pitying  way,  for  I  would  rather  have 
seen  him  like  one  of  the  lizards  on  the 
Australian  plains,  such  as  the  girls  had 
told  me  of,  which  erect  a  spiny  frill  over 
their  heads,  and  swell  themselves  out  the 
whole  length  of  their  body  until  their 
natural  ugliness  becomes  a  very  horror  and 
scares    anything    which    has    the    curiosity 


BAN  FKANOISCO  AND  NOKTllVVAKD. 


89 


or  rashness  to  approach  and  threaten 
them. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  in  Alaska  or 
British  Cohimbia,  Tom  ? "  said  he  to  me  one 
day.  "Do  you  think  of  farming,  or  seal- 
hunting,  or  gold-mining,  or  what?  I 
should  like  to  hear  your  plans,  if  you  have 
any."  And  then  he  went  on  without  wait- 
ing for  an  answer,  showing  plainly  that  he 
thought  that  I  had  none,  and  was  a  fool, 
"And  that  young  idiot  Harmer,  why 
didn't  he  stick  to  his  ship  ? " 

"  Because  he  will  never  stick  to  anything, 
Mr.  Fleming,"  I  answered,  "  though  he  is  a 
clever  young  fellow,  and  fit  for  other  things 
than  sailoring,  if  I'm  a  judge.  But  as  for 
myself  I  don't  think  I  am,  and  yet  when  I 
make  up  ray  mind  to  a  thing,  I  usually  do 
it." 

"You  usually  succeed,  then?"  said  he, 
with  a  hard  smile.  "  It  is  well  to  have  be- 
lief   in    one's   own  strength     and    abilities. 


90 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


\m 


But  sometimes  others  have  strength  as  well, 
and  then  " 

'*  And  then,"  I  answered,  "  it  is  very  often 
a  question  of  will." 

He  smiled  again  and  dropped  the  subject. 

On  the  third  dav  out  from  San  Francisco, 
when  we  were  running  along  the  coast  of 
Oregon,  I  found  at  last  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  Elsie.     I  first  went  to  Fanny. 

"  Fanny,  my  dear  girl,  I  want  to  speak 
to  you  a  few  minutes."  I  sat  down  beside 
her. 

"  I  think  you  know,  Fanny,  why  I  am 
here,  don't  you  ? "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  tolerably  obvious,  Mr.  Ticehurst," 
she  answered  rather  gravely,  T  thought. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  is;  but  first  I  want 
to  be  sure  whether  you  were  right  about 
what  you  told  me  on  the  morning  we  left 
San  Francisco." 

I  was  silent,  and  looked  at  her.  She 
seemed  a  trifle  distressed. 


SAN   J'RANOISCO  AND  NORTHWARD. 


91 


"Well,  Tom,  I  thought  that  I  was,"  she 
answered  at  length ;  "  and  I  still  think  I  am 
— and  yet  I  don't  know.  You  see,  Elsie  is  a 
strange  girl,  and  never  confides  in  anyone 
since  dear  mother  died,  and  she  would  never 
confess  anything  to  me.  Still,  I  have  eyes 
in  my  head,  and  ears  too.  But  since  you 
have  been  with  us  she  has  been  harder  and 
colder  than  I  ever  saw  her  in  all  my  life,  and 
she  has  said  enough  to  make  me  think  that 
there  is  something  that  I  know  nothing  about 
which  makes  her  so.  You  know,  I  joked  her 
about  you  yesterday,  and  she  got  so  angry 
all  of  a  sudden,  like  pouring  kerosene  on  a 
fire,  and  she  said  you  were  a  coward.  When 
I  asked  her  why,  she  turned  white  and 
wouldn't  answer.  Then  I  said  of  course  you 
must  be  a  coward  if  she  said  so,  but  I  didn't 
think  she  had  any  right  to  say  it  or  think  it 
when  you  had  saved  all  our  lives  by  your 
coolness  and  courage.  And  then,  you  know, 
I  got  angry  and  cried,  because  I  like  you 


92 


THE    MATE    OP    THE    VANCOUVER. 


very  much,  just  as  much  as  I  do  my  brother 
on  the  station  at  home.  And  I  said  she  was 
a  cruel  beast,  and  all  kinds  of  horrid  things, 
until  I  couldn't  think  of  anything  but  making 
faces  at  her,  just  as  I  did  when  I  was  a  child. 
And  we  are  having  a  quarrel  now,  and  it  is 
all  about  you — you  ought  to  be  proud." 
And  Fanny  looked  up  half  laughing  and  half 
crying,  for  she  dearly  loved  Elsie,  as  I  knew. 
"  Well,  my  dear  little  sister  Fanny,"  I  said, 
"  for  you  shall  be  my  sister  one  day,  there  is 
something  that  makes  her  think  ill  of  me, 
but  it  is  not  my  fault,  as  far  aa  I  can  see. 
And  I  can't  convince  her  of  that,  except  by 
showing  her  that  I  am  not  the  man  she 
thinks,  unless  some  accident  puts  me  back 
into  the  place  I  once  believed  I  held  in  her 
thoughts.  But  I  want  to  speak  to  her,  and  I 
must  do  it  to-day.  To-morrow  we  shall  be 
in  Victoria,  and  I  should  not  like  to  part 
with  her  without  speaking.  If  I  talk  with 
her  now,  it  will  probably  take  some  time,  so 


SAN  PRATT0I8CO  AND  NORTHWARD. 


98 


I  want  you,  if  you  can,  to  prevent  anyone 
interrupting  us." 

Fanny  nodded,  and  wipped  away  a  tear 
in  a  quick   manner,    just    as   if  it  were  a 

fly- 

"Very  well,  I  will.  You  know  I  tnist 
you,  if  Elsie  doesn't."  And  she  went  over 
to  Harmer,  who  was  in  a  fidget,  and  kept 
looking  at  me  as  if  he  was  wondering  what  I 
meant  by  talking  so  confidentially  to  Fanny. 

I  found  Elsie  sitting  by  herself  just  for- 
ward of  the  funnel.  She  was  reading,  and 
though  when  I  spoke  she  answered  and  put 
the  book  down  in  her  lap,  she  kept  looking 
at  it  in  a  nervous  way,  as  if  she  wished  I  had 
not  interrupted  her ;  and  we  had  been  talk- 
ing some  minutes  before  she  seemed  to  wholly 
forget  that  it  was  there. 

I  spoke  without  any  thought  of  what  I 
was  going  to  say. 

"  Miss  Fleming  (see,  I  call  you  that,  though 
a  little  while  ago  it  was  Elsie),  I  have  deter- 


94 


THE    MATE    OP   THE    VAWOOUVER. 


mined  to  speak  to  you  in  spite  of  the  way 
you  avoid  me." 

"I  would  rather  you  did  not,  Mr.  Tice- 
hurst,"  she  said. 

"  It  has  come  to  a  time  when  I  must  do  as 
I  think  fit,  even  if  I  am  rude  and  rough.  I 
have  something  to  say,  and  mean  to  say  it. 
Miss  Fleming;  and  if  I  word  it  in  rough  or 
broken  fashion,  if  I  stumble  over  it  or  stam- 
mer with  my  tongue,  you  will  know  why, 
just  as  you  know  why  I  am  here.  Come 
now,  why  am  I  on  this  steamer  ? " 

She  remained  mute,  with  her  head  bent 
down,  and  the  gold  of  her  hair  loose  over  her 
eyes,  so  that  I  could  not  see  them.  But  she 
trembled  a  little,  and  was  ripping  one  of  the 
pages  of  her  book.  I  took  hold  of  it  and  put 
it  down.  She  made  no  remonstrance,  and  I 
began  to  feel  that  I  had  power  over  her, 
though  how  far  it  went  I  could  not  tell. 

"  Why  am  I  here  ? "  I  went  on  scornfully. 
"  Oh,  on  a  pleasure  trip  to  see  the  advertised 


SAN    FRANCISCO    AN  >    NORTHWARD. 


95 


coast  from  San  Francisco  to  Sitka,  to  behold 
Mount  Elias  and  its  glaciers  !  By  Heavens, 
I  think  I  have  ice  nearer  at  hand !  Oh,  it  is 
business  ?  I  wish  to  gain  wealth,  so  I  give 
up  what  I  understand,  and  go  into  what  is  as 
familiar  to  me  as  a  sextant  is  to  a  savage ! 
It  can't  be  business.  Do  you  know  what  it 
is,  Miss  Fleming  ?  Look,  I  think  there  was 
a  girl  who  I  knew  once,  but  she  was  a  kind, 
bright  girl,  who  was  joyous,  whom  I  called 
by  her  Christian  name,  who  walked  by  my 
side  in  the  moonlight,  when  the  sails  were 
silvered  and  their  shadows  dark,  when  I  kept 
the  first  watch  in  the  Vancouver,  I  wonder 
what  has  become  of  her  ?  That  girl  would 
have  known,  but " 

I  stopped,  and  she  was  still  stubborn. 
But  she  did  not  move.     I  went  on  again : 

"  There  must  be  evil  spirits  on  the  sea  that 
fly  like  petrels  in  the  storm,  and  come  on 
board  ship  and  enter  into  the  hearts  of  thosQ 
they  find  there.    Why -" 


96 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"I  fear,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  she  interrupted, 
"that  you  think  me  a  fool.  If  I  am  not, 
then  your  talk  is  vain  ;  and  if  I  am,  I  surely 
am  not  fit  to  mate  with  you.  Let  us  cease  to 
talk  about  this,  for  it  is  useless ! '' 

I  was  almost  choking  with  passion  ;  it  was 
so  hard  to  be  misconcieved,  even  though  she 
had  so  much  reason  on  her  side.  Yet,  since 
I  knew  she  was  wrong,  I  almost  wished  to 
shake  her. 

"  No ! "  I  said  at  last,  "  I  will  not  go  until 
I  Lave  an  understanding  one  way  or  the 
other.  We  have  been  beating  about  the 
bush,  but  I  will  do  it  no  longer.  You  know 
that  I  love  you ! " 

She  drew  herself  up. 

"  How  many  can  you  love  at  a  time,  Mr. 
Ticehurst  ? "  she  said. 

"  One,  only  one,"  I  replied.  "  You  are 
utterly  mistaken." 

"I  am  not  mistaken!"  she  said;  "and  I 
think  you  are  a  coward  and  a  traitor.    If 


SAN    FBANOISOO    AND    NORTHWARD. 


97 


you  were  not,  I  might  love  you ;  but  as  you 
are^  such  a  thiug  is  impossible." 

I  caught  her  by  the  wrist.  Instinctively 
she  tried  to  free  herself,  but  finding  she 
could  not,  looked  up.  When  she  caught  my 
eye,  her  indignant  remonstrance  died  on  her 
lips. 

"Look  you,  Elsie,  what  can  I  do? 
Perhaps  I  cannot  defend  myself;  there  are 
some  situations  where  a  man  cannot  for  the 
sake  of  others.  I  can  say  no  more  about 
that.  And  I  will  make  you  see  you  are 
wrong,  if  not  by  proof,  by  showing  you 
what  I  am — a  man  incapable  of  what  you 
think  me — and  in  the  end  I  will  make  you 
love  me."  I  paused  for  a  moment,  but  she 
did  not  move. 

"  You  have  listened  to  me,  Elsie,  and  you 
can  see  what  I  mean,  you  can  think  whether 
I  shall  falter  or  swerve ;  and  now  I  ask  you, 
for  I  am  assured  you  do  love  me,  or  that  you 
did,  whether  you  will  not  trust  me  now? 


98 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


For  you  cannot  believe  that  I  could  speak 
as  I  do  if  I  had  done  what  you  think." 

I  looked  at  Elsie,  and  she  was  very  pale. 
I  could  see  that  I  had  moved  her,  had 
shaken  her  conviction,  that  she  was  at  war 
with  herself.  I  got  up,  went  to  the  side, 
and  then  turned,  beckoning  to  her  to  look 
over  to  seaward  with  me.  She  came  almost 
like  a  woman  walking  in  her  sleep,  and  took 
a  place  by  ray  side.  I  did  so  to  avoid 
notice,  for  I  feared  to  attract  attention; 
indeed,  I  saw  two  passengers  looking  at  us 
curiously,  one  of  whom  smiled  so  that  I 
began  to  wish  to  throw  him  overboard.  Yet 
I  think,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did  wrong  in 
allowing  her  to  move ;  it  broke  the  influence 
I  held  over  her  in  a  measure,  for  I  have 
often  noticed  since  that  to  obtain  control  of 
some  people  one  should  keep  steadily 
insisting  on  the  one  point,  and  never  allow 
them  to  go  beyond,  or  even  to  think  beyond 
it.     But  then  to  do  so  one  must  be  stronger 


SAN    FUANCISCO    AND    NOUTIIWAKD. 


00 


than  I  was,  or  he  will  lose  control  over 
himself,  as  I  did,  and  so  make  errors  in 
judgment. 

"  Elsie,"  I  said  quietly,  "  are  you  not 
going  to  answer  me  ?  Or  am  I  not  worth 
it?" 

Now,  up  to  this  moment  I  had  taken  her 
away  from  the  past ;  in  her  emotion  she  harl 
almost  forgotten  Helen  ;  she  was  just  waver- 
ing and  was  on  the  point  of  giving  in  to  me. 
Yet  by  that  last  suggestion  of  mine  I 
brought  it  back  to  her.  1  could  see  in  her 
mind  the  darker  depths  of  her  fear  and 
distrust  of  me,  and  what  I  rightly  judged 
her  hatred  and  jealousy  of  Helen.  Though  I 
do  not  think  I  know  much  of  character,  yet  in 
the  state  of  mind  that  I  was  in  then  I  seemed 
to  see  her  mind,  as  a  much  more  subtle  man 
might  have  done,  and  my  own  error.  I  could 
have  cursed  my  own  folly.  She  had  taken 
the  book  again,  and  was  holding  it  open  in 
her    hand.    Until    I  spoke  she  held  it  so 


100 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


■!■■' 


;i: 


i 


lightly  that  it  shook  and  wavered,  but  she 
caught  it  in  both  hands  and  shut  it  suddenly, 
as  though  it  was  the  book  of  her  heart  that 
I  had  been  reading,  and  she  denied  my  right 
to  do  it.  And  she  turned  toward  nie  cold 
once  more,  though  by  a  strange  influence  she 
caught  my  thought. 

"  This  is  a  closed  book,  Mr.  Ticehurst.  It 
is  the  book  of  the  past,  and — it  is  gone  for 
ever."  She  dropped  it  over  the  side  with  a 
mocking  smile.  But  I  caught  hold  of  her 
hand  and  held  it. 

"  Ah ! "  said  I,  "  then  we  begin  again.  If 
the  past  is  dead,  the  present  lives,  and  the 
future  is  yet  unborn.  You  mean  one  thing 
now,  and  I  mean  the  other ;  but  in  the 
future  we  shall  both  mean  the  same. 
Remember  what  I  sav,  Elsie — remember  it. 
For  unless  I  am  dead,  I  will  be  your 
acknowledged  lover  and  your  husband  at 
last." 

I  dropped  her  hand  and  walked  away,  and 


SAN    FRANCISCO    AND    NORTHWARD.       101 

when  I  looked  back  I  saw  lier  following  me 
witL  her  eyes.  I  would  have  given  much 
then  to  have  been  able  to  know  of  what  she 
thought.  I  went  below  and  slept  for  many 
hours  a  sleep  of  exhaustion,  for  though  a 
man  may  be  as  strong  as  a  lion  physically,  an 
excess  of  emotion  takes  more  from  him  than 
the  most  temble  jDhysical  toil. 

The  next  morning  we  were  in  Victoria,  and 
I  neither  had,  nor  did  I  seek,  an  opportunity 
of  again  speaking  with  Elsie.  But  I  did  talk 
for  a  few  moments  with  Fanny.  I  told  her 
some  part  of  \vhat  occurred,  but  not  much. 
She  said  as  much : 

"You  are  keeping  something  back,  Tom. 
I  think  you  know  some  reason  Avhy  Elsie 
won't  have  anything  to  do  with  you  ? " 

"  I  do,  Fanny,"  I  replied  :  "  but  there  is 
nothing  in  it  at  all,  and  one  of  these  days  she 
will  discover  it." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  she,  a  little  dryly  for  so 
young  a  girl ;  "  but  Elsie  is  a  little  obstinate, 


ill 


'•■'/'■    : 


!     i 


It     I 


103 


THE  MATE  OF  TttE  VANOOttVER. 


and  I  have  seen  horses  that  would  not  jump  a 
gate.     You  may  have  to  open  it  yet,  Tom." 

"  It  may  open  of  it  itself,  Fanny,  or  the 
horse  may  desire  the  grass  and  jump  at  last ; 
but  I  will  never  open  it  myself." 

And  I  shook  hands  with  her  and  Mr. 
Fleming.  I  took  off  my  hat  to  Elsie,  but 
said  in  a  low  voice : 

"  Remember  what  I  said,  Elsie,  for  I  shall 
never  forget."  And  then  she  turned  away  ; 
but  did  not  look  back  this  time,  as  she  had 
done  when  we  parted  in  the  hotel.  Yet 
such  is  the  cuHous  state  a  lover  is  in  that  I 
actually  comforted  myself  that  she  did  not, 
for  if  she  had,  I  said,  it  would  liave  showed 
she  was  callous  and  cold.  Perhaps,  though 
she  kept  command  over  herself  just  for  the 
time,  it  failed  her  at  the  last,  and  she  would 
not  let  me  see  it. 

When  they  were  gone,  Hanner  and  I  went 
ashore  too.  As  to  the  boy,  he  was  so  des- 
perately in   love — calf-love — that  I   had   to 


SAK    FRANCISCO    AND    NORTHWARD.       103 

cheer  him  up,  and  the  way  I  did  it  makes  me 
laugh  now,  for  I  have  a  larger  experience  of 
boys  and  men  than  I  had  then. 

"  Never  mind,  Harmer,"  said  I,  "  you  will 
get  over  this  in  no  time — see  if  you  don't." 

He  turned  round  in  a  blazing  rage,  and  I 
think  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  effects  of  the 
old  discipline,  which  was  yet  strong  upon 
him,  he  would  have  sworn  at  me ;  for  al- 
though Harmer  looked  as  if  butter  wouldn't 
melt  in  his  mouth,  I  knew  he  had  a  very 
copious  vocabulary  of  abuse  at  his  command, 
such  as  one  learns  only  too  easily  at  sea. 

"  What,  Mr.  Ticehurst !  "  he  said  stammer- 
ing. "  Get  over  it  ?  I  never  shall,  and  I 
don't  want  to,  and,  what's  'uore,  I  ^vouldn't 
if  I  could  !  It's  not  kind  of  you  to  say  so, 
and  I  think— I  think " 

"  What,  Jack  ? "  said  I,  thunderstruck  at 
this  out})urst,  when  I  meant  consolation. 

"  That  you'll  get  over  it  first.  There 
now ! "  said  he,  triumphant  with  this  retort. 


104 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I  burst  into  laughter. 

"Well — well,  Harmer,  I  didn't  mean  to 
vex  you.  We  must  not  quarrel  now,  for 
Jordan's  a  hard  road  to  travel,  I  believe,  and 
you  and  I  have  got  to  make  lots  of  money ; 
at  least  you  have ;  if  we  are  going  to  do  any- 
thing in  this  country.  For  its  what  the 
Yankees  call  a  tough  place." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Harmer,  now  ashamed  of 
of  being  angry.  "I  heard  one  fellow  say  to 
another  on  the  steamer,  '  You  croldarned 
fellers  from  the  East  think  you're  going  to 
get  a  soft  seat  over  here,  but  you  bet  you'll 
have  to  rustle  on  the  Pacific  Slope  or  else 
git!'  And  then  he  turned  to  me.  *D'ye 
hear  that,  young  feller  ? — you've  got  to  rustle 
right  smart,  or  you'll  get  left.'  " 

And  Jack  laughed  heartily  trying  to  imi- 
tate the  accent  of  his  adviser,  but  he  found  it 
hard  to  disguise  his  own  pure  English,  learnt 
in  a  home  far  across  the  seas  and  the  wide 
stretch  of  the  American  Continent. 


SAN    FRANCISCO    AND    NORTHWARD.      106 

That  night  we  stayed  in  Victoria  in  a  rough 
hotel  kept  by  two  brothers,  Cornishmen,  who 
invited  us  both  to  have  drinks  on  the  strength 
of  our  all  being  Englishman,  though  I  should 
never  have  suspected  that  they  were  such,  so 
well  did  their  accent  disguise  the  truth  from 
me.  And  in  the  morning,  two  days  after,  we 
went  on  board  the  Western  Slope  bound  for 
New  Westminster,  on  the  mainland  of  British 
Columbia,  whither  the  Flemings  had  preceded 
us. 


if    ! 


Part  III. 


A  GOLDEN  LINK. 


"What  I  have  just  written  is  but  the 
connecting  link  between  two  series  of 
events — the  hyphen  between  two  words; 
and  I  shall  not  try  to  hurry  on  to  the  strange 
drama  of  a  few  days  to  which  all  that  pre- 
cedes it  has  been  but  the  inevitable  prologue, 
without  which  there  were  no  clear  under- 
standing of  its  incidents.  I  am  going,  there- 
fore, to  dispose  of  a  whole  year's  events  in  a 
few  words,  though  much  occun-ed  in  that 
time  which  might  be  worth  relating,  if  I 
were  a  professional  writer,  able  to  make 
things  interesting  to  all,  or  if  I  had  the 
faculty  of  making  word-pictures  of  places 
and  scenes  which  stand  out  clearly  before 
me  whenever  I  reflect,  and  the  full  times  of 

the  past  come  up  for  review. 

107 


108 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


ill 


What  Jack  Harmer  and  I  did  for  that 
year  truly  would  take  ten  times  the  space  I 
have  allowed  myself,  and  have  been  allowed, 
and  I  shall  say  but  little  now  if  I  can  only 
dispose  of  that  twelve  months  in  a  way  that 
places  my  readers  in  a  position  to  clearly 
understand  what  passed  in  the  thirteenth 
month  after  I  had  landed  in  British  Columbia. 

Now  on  our  landing  we  had  but  £40 
between  us,  and  I  was  the  possessor  of  nearly 
all  that  amount,  about  two  hundred  dollars 
in  American  currency.  It  is  true  I  had  a 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  in  England,  which 
I  had  sent  for,  and  Harmer  had  quite  coolly 
asked  his  father  for  fifty,  which  I  may  state 
here  he  did  7iot  get  in  a  letter  w^hich  advised 
him  to  return  to  England,  and  go  in  for 
something  worth  having  before  it  was  too 
latf 

"  He  means  the  Civil  Service,  I  know," 
said  Jack,  when  he  read  the  letter ;  "  and  I 
hate  the  notion.    They  are  all  fossils  in  it, 


A  GOLDEN   LINK. 


109 


and  if  they  have  brains  to  start  with,  they 
rarely  keep  them — why  should  they  ? 
They're  not  half  as  much  use  as  a  fiiend  at 
court."  .'       ^ 

Perhaps  he  was  right,  yet  I  advised  him 
t(^  take  his  father's  advice,  and  he  took 
neither  his  nor  mine,  but  stuck  to  me  per- 
sistently with  a  devotion  that  pleased  and 
yet  annoyed  me.  For  I  desired  a  free  hand, 
and  with  him  I  could  not  get  it.  I  had  some 
idea  of  going  in  for  farming  when  I  landed. 
1  would  get  a  farm  near  Elsie's  father,  and 
stay  there.  But  I  found  I  hadn't  sufficient 
money,  or  anything  like  sufficient,  to  buy 
laud  near  Thomson  Forks.  So  I  looked 
round,  and,  in  looking  round,  spent  money. 
Finally,  I  got  Harmer  something  to  do  in  a 
sawmill  on  Buri'ard's  Inlet,  a  position  Avhich 
give  him  sufficient  to  live  on,  but  very  little 
more  ;  and  yet  he  had  not  to  work  very  hard, 
in  fact  he  tallied  the  lumber  into  the  ships  load- 
ing in  tho  Inlet  for  China  and  Australia,  and 


Ml 


110 


THK  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


!    I 


I   !| 


wrote  to  me  that  he  liked  his  job  reasonably 
well,  though  he  was  gneved  to  be  away 
from  me.  As  for  myself,  I  went  up  to 
Thomson  Forks,  looked  round  me  there, 
and  at  the  hotel  fell  in  with  a  man  named 
Mackintosh,  an  American  from  Michigan,  a 
great  strong  fellow,  with  a  long  red  beard, 
and  an  eye  like  an  Eagle's,  who  was  going 
up  in  the  Big  Bend  gold-hunting,  prospecting 
as  they  call  it.  I  told  him,  after  we  got 
into  conversation,  that  I  wanted  to  jxo 
farming. 

He  snorted  scornfully,  and  immediately 
began  to  dilate  on  gold-mining  and  all  the 
chances  a  man  had  who  possessed  the  grit  to 
tackle  it.  And  as  I  knew  I  really  had  too 
little  money  to  farm  with,  it  wasn't  long  be- 
fore he  persuaded  me  to  be  his  partner  and 
go  with  him.  For  I  liked  him  at  once,  and 
was  feeling  so  out  in  the  cold  that  I  was 
glad  to  chum  with  anyone  who  looked  like 
knowing  his  way  about.     We  were  soon  in 


A  GOLDEN  LINK. 


Ill 


the  thick  of  planning  our  campaign,  and  Mac 
got  very  fluent  and  ornamental  in  his  lan- 
guage as  he  drank  and  talked.  However,  I 
did  not  mind  that  much,  although  his  blas- 
phemy was  British  Columbian,  and  rather 
worse  than  that  in  use  on  board  ship.  Yet 
people  do  not  think  the  sea  a  mean  school  of 
cursing.  Presently,  as  I  turned  round  at  the 
bar,  I  saw  Mr.  Fleming,  who  did  not  notice 
me  until  I  spoke. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Fleming,"  I  said ; 
"  will  you  drink  with  me  ? " 

He  turned  round  sharply  at  the  sound 
of  my  voice,  and  then  shook  my  hand, 
half  doubtfully  at  first,  and  then  more 
heartily. 

"  Well,  Ticehui'st,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  you,  after  all.  Hang  it,  1  am ! 
for  "  (here  he  lowered  his  voice  to  a  whisper) 
"  I  don't  care  about  the  style  of  this  place 
after  New  South  Wales.  They  nearly  all 
cany  revolvers  here,  damn  it!  as  if  they 


112 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


■•Hi 
Hi! 


■i  'li! 


were  police ;  and  last  time  I  came  in,  my 
man  and  another  fellow  fought,  and  Si  wash 
Jim  (that's  what  they  call  him)  tried  to 
gouge  out  the  other  chap's  eyes.  And  when 
I  pulled  him  off,  the  other  men  growled  al)out 
my  spoiling  a  fight.  What  do  you  think  of 
that?'* 

And  the  old  man  stared  at  me  inquiringly, 
and  then  laughed.  . 

"  Wish  I  could  ask  you  over  to  the  Creek, 
but  I  can't,  and  you  know  why.  Take  my 
advice  and  go  back  to  sea.  Now,  look  here, 
let's  speak  plain.  I  know  you  want  Elsie ; 
but  it's  a  mistake,  my  boy.  She  didn't  care 
for  you  ;  and  I  know  her,  she's  just  like  her 
mother,  the  obstinatest  woman  you  ever  saw 
when  she  made  up  her  mind.  I  wouldn't 
mind  much  if  she  did  care  for  you,  though 
perhaps  you  aint  so  rich  as  you  ought  to  be, 
Tom.  But  then  my  wife  had  more  money 
than  I  had  by  a  long  sight,  so  I  don't  cai*e 
for  that.     But  seeing  that  Elsie  doesn't  want 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


113 


you,  what's  the  use?  Take  my  advice  and 
go  to  sea  again." 

Here  he  stopped  and  gave  me  the  fii-st 
chance  of  sj^eaking  I  had  had  since  I  ac- 
costed him. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Fleming,"  I  said  firndy ; 
"  but  I  can't  go  back  yet.  I  am  glad  you 
have  no  great  objection  to  me  youi*self,  but 
I  believe  that  Elsie  hasn't  either,  and  I'm 
bound  to  prove  it,  and  I  will." 

"  Well,  you  know  best,"  he  replied.  "  But 
mind  your  eye,  old  boy,  when  your  fiiend  the 
Malay  comes  out.  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  on 
the  same  continent  with  him,  if  I  were  you." 

"  I  don't  like  being  either,"  I  said.  "  But 
then  it  shows  how  fixed  I  am  on  one  object. 
And  I  shall  not  go,  even  if  he  were  to  find 
out  where  I  am.  For  T  might  have  to  kill 
him.  Yet  I  don't  see  how  he  can  find  out. 
Nobody  knows  or  will  know,  except  my 
brother,  and  he  won't  tell  him." 

Fleming     shrugged     his     shoulders    and 


.*■■  ;l|l 

'.-m 


m 


k'\ 


l!:l! 


114 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


dro'pped   tLe    subject   to  take  up  his    own 
affairs. 

"  Damn  this  country,  my  boy !  give  me  a 
plain  ^vhere  I  can  see  a  few  miles.  On  my 
soul,  this  place  chokes  me ;  I  can't  look  out 
five  hundred  yards  for  some  thundering  old 
mountain !  At  the  Creek  there  are  hills  at 
the  back,  at  the  front,  and  on  both  sides,  and 
nearly  all  are  chokeful  of  trees,  so  that  rid- 
ing after  the  cattle  is  worse  than  going  after 
scrub  cattle  in  Australia.  I  can't  get  the 
hang  of  the  place  at  all,  and  though  I  am 
supposed  to  own  nearly  Uvo  hundred  head  of 
cattle,  I  can't  muster  seventy-five  on  my  own 
place.  Some  are  up  at  Spullamacheen,  some 
on  the  Nicola,  and  others  over  at  the  Kettle 
River  on  the  border,  for  all  I  know.  And 
the  place  is  full  of  canons,  as  they  call 
gulches  in  this  place;  and  thundei'ing  holes 
they  are,  two  hundred  feet  deep,  with  a 
roaring  stream  at  the  bottom.  The  Black 
Canon  at  the  back  of  my  place  gives  me  the 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


116 


shivers.  I  am  like  a  horse  bred  on  the 
plains ;  when  it  gets  on  the  mountains  it  is 
all  abroad,  and  shivers  at  the  sight  oi  a 
sharp  slope.  I  reckon  I  can  ride  on  the 
flat,  old  as  I  am,  but  here,  if  it  wasn't  for  my 
scoundrel  Siwash  Jim,  who  says  he  knows 
the  country  like  a  book,  I  shouldn't  know 
where  to  go  or  what  to  do.  Here  he  comes, 
the  vagabond ! " 

I  had  learnt  by  this  time  that  Siwash 
means  Indian,  for  in  that  country  they  say 
Siwashes  instead  of  Indians,  so  I  thought 
Jim  was  one  of  the  natives.  However,  I 
saw  at  once  he  wasn't,  for  though  he  was 
dark,  his  features  were  pure  white.  He  had 
earned  his  nickname  by  living  with  the 
Indians  for  so  many  years  that  he  was  more 
at  home  with  them  than  with  white  people, 
and  he  had  acquired  all  their  vices  as  well 
as  a  goodly  stock  of  his  o^vu,  probably  in- 
herited. He  was  a  slightly  built  man  of 
about  foi*ty,  with  a  l<3^v   forehead,  a   sharp 


H:   II 


m 


mm 

Ml'  I'll 


^'liiil 


iiiin 


116 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


aquiline  nose,  and  no  lips  to  speak  of ;  his 
mustache  was  short,  and  a  mere  line ;  his 
teeth  were  black  with  smoking  and  chewing ; 
his  legs  bowed  with  continual  riding.  He 
wore  mocassins,  and  kept  his  hair  long.  He 
was  more  than  half  intoxicated  when  he 
came  in,  carrying  a  stock-whip  coiled  round 
his  neck.  He  did  not  speak,  but  drank 
stolidly;  and  when  he  looked  at  me,  I 
fancied  it  was  with  an  air  of  dislike,  as 
though  he  had  read  my  thoughts  and  knew 
how  I  regarded  him. 

I  drev,  Fleming  aside. 

"  I  don't  like  him,"  said  I ;  "  and  wouldn't 
trust  him  farther  than  I  could  swing  a  bull 
by  the  tail.     Do  the  girls  like  him  ?  " 

"  Like  him ! "  repeated  Fleming,  "  they 
hate  him,  and  want  me  to  give  him  the 
bounce,  as  they  say  here.  Elsie  says  he 
looks  like  a  murderer,  and  Fanny  that  he  is 
uglier  than  a  Murrumbidgee  black  fellow. 
But  then  he  knows  the  country  and  does  his 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


117 


work,  and  don't  want  to  go.  I  don't  care 
much  either  way,  for  when  I  can  get  all  the 
cattle  together  and  put  the  place  in  order  I 
shall  sell  out  and  go  back.  Stay  in  British 
Columbia — no,  sir,  I  won't !  not  if  they  make 
me  Governor.  I  tell  you  I  like  to  be  where 
1  can  see  ten  miles.  Then  I  can  breathe.  I 
can  go  out  at  home  and  see  all  my  station 
and  almost  count  the  sheep  and  cattle  from 
my  door ;  and  here  I  have  to  ride  up  and 
ride  down,  and  I  never  know  Avhere  I  am. 
I'm  going  back  just  as  soon  as  I  can." 

And  he  went  away  -then  without  asking 
where  I  was  going  or  whether  I  was  doing 
anything.  Next  morning  I  jumped  on  board 
the  steamer  with  Mac  and  started  for  the 
head  of  the  Shushwap  Lakes.  Thence  we 
went  into  the  Bioj  Bend,  and  thoucjli  we 
never  made  the  millions  Mac  was  always 
prophesying  about  and  hungering  for,  our 
summer's  woi'k  was  not  wasted.  For  before 
the  season   was  over  we  had   struck  a.  rich 


I 


li  i 


liijlt 

iliil!'! 


118 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


pocket  and  made  about  four  thousand  dollars 
a  piece. 

Of  course  I  wanted  to  up  stick  and  go 
back  as  soon  as  I  had  as  much  as  that,  but 
Mac  would  not  hear  of  it. 

"  No,  Tom — no,"  said  he  ;  "  there's  more 
here  yet." 

And  he  eyed  me  so  entreatingly  that  I 
caved  in  and  promised  to  remain  with  him 
prospecting,  at  any  I'ate  till  the  first  snow. 

But  a  week  after  making  that  agreement 
we  both  went  down  to  the  Columbia  for 
more  provisions.  Finding  none  there,  we  had 
to  make  the  farther  journey  to  the  Landing. 
There  I  found  ^  letter  waiting  for  me  from 
Harmer,  saying  that  he  was  tired  of  the  saw- 
mill on  the  Inlet,  and  wanted  to  join  me.  I 
wrote  back  requesting  him  to  be  good 
enough  to  stay  where  he  was,  but,  to  console 
him,  promised  that  if  I  saw  any  chance  of  his 
doing  better  with  me  I  would  send  for  him. 
He  asked  rather  timidly  for  news  of  Fanny. 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


119 


I 

)d 

He 
lis 

1X1  • 


How  could  I  give  him  news  when  I  knew 
nothing  of  Elsie  ?  Yet  the  simple  mention 
of  the  girPs  name  again  made  me  anxious  to 
get  back  to  the  Forks,  and  if  one  of  the 
steamers  had  come  up  the  lake  I  think  I 
should  have  deserted  Mac  in  spite  of  my 
promise.  Yet  we  had  only  brought  down 
half  the  gold  that  trip,  perhaps  because  my 
partner  had  made  a  calculation  as  to  what  I 
might  do,  having  it  on  me,  if  we  got  within 
reach  of  some  kind  of  civilization,  and  I 
thought  it  best  to  secure  the  rest  while  I 
could,  though  I  thoroughly  trusted  Mac.  At 
the  same  time  that  I  answered  Harmer's 
letter  I  wrote  one  to  my  brother,  telling 
him  both  what  I  had  done  and  what  I  pro- 
posed doing  later  on.  And  I  begged  him  to 
be  careful,  if  he  should  be  in  San  Francisco 
then,  of  the  Malay  when  his  time  was  up. 
For  although  his  chief  spite  was  against  me, 
yet  Will  was  my  brother,  and  I  well  remem- 
bered the  look  that  he  had  cast  on  him  when 


'III 


M^-i  I 


'■ii 


/ 


120 


THE  MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


he  was  kicked  in  the  struggle  between  Will 
and  myself. 

The  rest  of  the  summer — and  a  beautiful 
season  it  was  in  the  wooded  mountains — was 
spent  in  very  unsuccessful  j)rospecting.  For 
one  thing,  after  our  success  Mac  had  taken  to 
prospecting  for  pockets ;  and  if  gold-mining 
be  like  gambling  as  a  general  rule,  that  is 
almost  pure  chance.  Once  or  twice  he  was 
in  high  spirits  at  good  indications,  but  on 
following  them  up  we  were  invariably  dis- 
appointed, and  we  had  to  start  again. 
August  and  September  passed,  and  the 
higher  summits  above  us  were  already  white 
with  snow,  which  fell  on  us  in  the  lower 
valleys  as  rain.  In  October  there  was  a 
cessation  of  bad  weather  for  a  time,  and  Mac 
promised  himself  a  long  fall  season,  but  at 
the  end  of  it  we  woke  one  morning  to  find  a 
3ot  of  snow  on  our  very  camping  ground. 
"  We  shall  have  to  get  up  and  get,"  said  I 
cheerfully,  for  I  was  glad  of  it.  ,  -. 


A   GOLDEN    LINK. 


121 


"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Mac  ;  "  this  is  nothing. 
It  will  all  go  again  by  to-nioiTow  ;  there  will 
be  nothing  to  stop  us  from  another  week  or 
two.  Besides,  yesterday  I  had  a  notion  that 
I  saw  something.  I  didn't  tell  you,  but  I 
found  another  bit  of  quartz — aye,  richer  than 
the  piece  I  showed  you  at  the  Forks,  Tom, 
and  we've  got  to  find  out  where  it  comes 
from." 

1  groaned,  but,  in  spite  of  argument,  there 
was  no  moving  him;  and  though  I  was 
angry  enough  to  have  gone  off  by  myself, 
yet  knowing  neither  the  trail  nor  the  coun- 
try well,  I  had  no  desire  to  get  lost  in  the 
mountains,  Avhich  would  most  assuredly  have 
meant  death  to  me.  However,  I  still  remon- 
strated, and  at  last  got  him  to  fix  ten  days  as 
the  very  longest  time  he  ^vould  remain  :  I 
was  obliged  to  be  content  Avitli  that. 

But  Mac  was  sorry  before  the  hour  ap- 
pointed for  *ur  departure  that  he  had  not 
taken  my  advice,  "  tenderfoot "  and  English- 


m 

i  ii 


ii  'II 


i; 
in 


I  ! 


I     I 


122 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


man  though  I  was.  On  the  evening  of  the 
eighth  day  the  temperature,  which  had  up  to 
that  time  been  faii'ly  warm  in  spite  of  our 
altitude  and  the  advanced  season,  fell  sud- 
denly, and  it  became  bitterly  cold.  Our 
ponies,  who  had  managed  to  pick  up  a  fair 
living  on  the  plateau  where  our  camp  stood, 
and  along  the  creek  bottoms,  came  right  up 
to  our  tent,  and  one  of  them  put  his  head  in- 
side. "  Dick,"  as  we  called  him,  was  a  much 
gentler  animal  than  most  British  Columbian 
cayuses,  and  had  made  a  friend  of  me,  com- 
ing once  a  day  at  least  for  me  to  give  him  a 
piece  of  bread,  of  which  he  had  grown  fond, 
though  at  first  he  was  as  strange  with  it  as  a 
young  foal  with  oats.  I  put  up  my  hand 
and  touched  his  nose,  which  was  soft  and 
silky,  while  the  rest  of  his  coat  was  long  and 
rough.  He  whinnied  gently,  and  I  found  a 
crust  for  him,  and  then  gently  repulsing  him, 
I  fastened  the  fly  of  the  tent.  Mac  was  fast 
asleep  under  his  dark  blankets,  whence  there 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


123 


came  sudden  snorts  like  those  a  bear  makes 
in  his  covert,  or  low  rumblings  like  thunder 
from  a  thick  cloud. 

But  it  was  he  who  woke  me  in  the 
morning,  and  he  did  it  without  cere- 
mony. 

"  Get  up,  old  man  ! "  he  said  hurriedly, 
while  he  was  jamming  himself,  as  it  were, 
into  his  garments.  "The  snow's  come  at 
last — and,  by  thunder,  it's  come  to  stay ! 
There's  no  time  to  be  lost ! "  And  he 
vanished  into  the  white  space  outside. 

When  I  followed  I  found  him  already  at 
work  packing  the  ponies,  and  without  any 
words  I  set  to,  struck  the  tent,  rolled  it  up, 
and  got  together  everything  I  thought 
should  go.  When  I  touched  the  tools  Mac 
turned  round. 

"  Leave  'em,  pard — leave  'em.  There's 
plenty  of  weight  without  that.  Aye, 
plenty — and  too  much !  " 

The  last  I  only  just  caught,  for  it  was  said 


124 


THK  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


H 


to  himself.  In  half  an  hour  we  were  off, 
leaving  behind  us  nearly  three  weeks' 
provisions,  all  the  tools  but  two  light 
shovels,  and  what  remained  after  our 
working  the  quartz. 

"  It's  worth  a  thousand  dollars,"  said  Mac, 
regretfully,  "but  without  a  proper  cinisher 
it's  only  tailings." 

We  moved  off  camp,  Mac  first,  leading 
the  nameless  pony,  which  was  the  stronger 
of  the  two,  and  I  following  with  Dick. 

The  snow  was  two  feet  deep  in  many 
parts,  and  in  some  drifts  much  more  than 
that.  Fortunately,  the  trail  was  for  its 
greater  length  well  sheltered,  both  by 
overhanging  rocks  and  big  trees,  spruce, 
cedar,  hemlock,  and  pine,  which  helped  to 
keep  it  clear ;  but  it  was  evident  to  me  by 
the  way  the  ponies  traveled,  and  the  labor 
it  was  for  me  to  get  along  with  no  other 
burden  than  the  shovel,  from  which  I 
sometimes  used  to  free  Dick,  that  another 


!    ! 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


125 


fall  of  snow  would  make  traveling  almost 
impossible.  Mac  walked  on  in  somber 
silence,  reflecting  doubtless  that  it  was  his 
obstinacy  which  had  brought  us  into 
trouble,  a  thing  I  confess  I  was  not  so 
forgiving  as  to  forget,  though  merciful 
enough  not  to  remind  him  of  it.  It  had 
taken  us  three  days  to  come  up  from  the 
Columbia,  and  it  seemed  barely  possible 
under  the  circumstances  to  retrace  our  steps 
in  the  same  time,  even  although  the  horses 
were  not  so  much  burdened  and  there  was 
not  so  much  hard  climbing  to  be  done.  But 
I  could  see  Mac  was  bent  on  getting  out,  and 
he  traveled  without  more  rest  than  we  were 
absolutely  compelled  to  take  on  account  of 
the  animals.  As  for  myself,  I  confess  that 
though  I  had  traveled  that  same  trail  twice, 
yet  so  greatly  was  it  altered  by  the  snow 
that  I  should  have  lost  my  way  in  the 
first  mile.  For  mountaineering  and  the 
knowledge  of  locality  are  things  not  to  be 


»*• 


126 


THE  MATE  OF  TUE  VANCOUVER. 


Ij  ill!  J 


Ij  j 


11 


"I  111 
II  ! 


I 


I 


i  'ifli' 


learnt  in  a  hurry,  they  must  come  by  long 
custom,  or  by  native  instinct. 

Sorrowfully — for  I  am  always  loth  to 
harm  even  a  noxious  animal,  as  long  as  it 
leaves  me  alone — I  suggested  to  Mac  that  we 
should  leave  the  horses.     He  shook  his  head. 

"  Who'll  carry  the  provisions,  then  ? " 
said  he. 

"  Do  you  think  we  can  get  to  the  Landing, 
Mac  ? "  I  asked. 

"  We  shall  be  lucky,"  he  answered,  with  a 
significant  nod,  "  if  we  get  to  the  other  side  of 
the  Columbia.  Tom,  I  think  I  have  let  you 
in  for  a  winter  up  here,  unless  you  care  about 
snow-shoeing  it  over  the  other  pass.  I  was  a 
fool — say  yes  to  that  if  you  like." 

It  was  late  when  we  camped,  but  my 
partner  was  in  better  spirits  than  lit?  iiad  been 
at  noon  when  we  held  the  above  conversa- 
tion, for  we  had  done,  by  dint  of  forced 
marching,  quite  as  much  as  we  did  in  fine 
weather.    But  the  ponies  were  very  tired, 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


127 


and  there  was  nothing  for  them  to  eat,  or 
next  to  nothing,  for  the  grass  was  deeply 
buried.  I  gave  Dick  a  little  bread,  however, 
and  the  poor  animal  was  grateful  for  it,  and 
stood  by  me  all  night,  until,  at  the  eai'liest 
dawn,  we  packed  them  again  with  a  load  that 
was  lighter  by  the  day's  food  of  two  men, 
and  heavier  to  them  by  a  day's  hard  toil  and 
starvation. 

Toward  the  afternoon  of  that,  the  second 
day,  we  came  to  the  hardest  part  of  the  whole 
trail,  for,  on  crossing  a  river  which  was  freez- 
ing cold,  we  had  to  climb  the  side  of  an 
opposing  mountain.  Mac's  pony  traveled 
well,  and  though  he  showed  evident  signs  of 
fatigue,  he  was  in  much  better  case  than 
mine,  who  every  now  and  again  staggered,  or 
sobbed  audibly  with  a  long-drawn  breath.  I 
drew  Mac's  attention  to  it,  but  he  shook  his 
head. 

"  He  must  go  on,  there's  no  two  ways  about 
it."    And  lie  marched  oft*.    I  went  behind 


u 


!H(!li 


'Shi:!' lit 


i  I! 


'i 


I 


% 


ih-- 


llinill 


128 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


Ul- 


Dick  and  pushed  him  for  a  while,  and  though 
I  tired  myself,  yet  I  am  not  soriy  for  what  I 
did,  even  that  little  assistance  was  such  a 
relief  to  the  poor  wretched  animal  who,  from 
the  time  he  was  able  to  bear  a  weight,  had 
been  used  by  a  packer  without  rest  or  peace, 
as  though  he  were  a  machine,  and  whose  only 
hope  of  release  was  to  die,  starved,  wounded, 
saddle  and  girth  galled,  of  slow  starvation  at 
last.  Such  is  the  lot  of  the  pack  horse,  and, 
though  poor  Dick's  end  was  more  merciful, 
his  fellows  have  no  better  fate  to  expect, 
while  their  life  is  a  perpetual  round  of  ill- 
usage  and  hard  work. 

By  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the 
sky  grew  overcast,  and  the  light  feathery 
flakes  of  snow  came  at  first  slowly,  and  then 
f  astei",  turning  w^hat  blue  distances  we  caught 
sight  of  to  a  gray,  finally  hiding  them.  Dick 
by  this  time  was  almost  et  a  standstill.  I 
never  thought  I  was  a  very  tender-hearted 
man,  and  never  set  up  to  be ;  indeed,  if  he 


lii'i'  '< 


linii 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


129 


had  been  only  stubborn,  I  might  have 
thrashed  him  in  a  way  some  folks  would 
call  cruel ;  and  yet,  being  compelled  to  urge 
him,  both  for  his  sake  and  my  own,  I  con- 
fess my  heart  bled  to  see  his  suffering  and 
wretchedness.  Having  scarcely  the  strength 
to  lift  his  feet  properly,  he  had  struck  his 
fetlocks  against  many  projecting  stones  and 
roots  until  the  blood  ran  down  and  congealed 
on  his  little  hoofs,  which  were  growing 
tender,  as  1  could  see  by  the  w^ay  he  winced 
on  a  rockier  piece  of  the  trail  than  common. 
His  rough  coat  was  standing  up  and 
staring  like  that  of  a  broken-haired  terrier, 
in  spite  of  the  sweat  which  ran  down  his 
thin  sides  and  heaving  flanks ;  while  every 
now  and  again  he  stumbled,  and  with  diffi- 
culty recovered  himself. 

When  we  came  to  the  divide,  just  as  if 
he  had  said  that  he  would  do  so  much  for 
us,  he  stumbled  again,  and  fell  on  the  level 
ground,  cutting  his  knees  deeply.     Mac  hejird 


■ 

!i    1 

w 

'--'■ 

-Vj 

■'  r-: 

ii'';:| 

.i    " 

:•;*  " 


"  i 


iii 


ii. 


'''i|i!!!!l 


iiiii 


fj' 


130 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


the  noise,  and,  leaving  his  pony  standing,  he 
came  back  to  me. 

*'  He's  done  up,  poor  devil ! "  said  he  ; 
"  he'll  go  no  further.     What  shall  v/e  do  ? " 

I  shook  my  head,  for  it  was  not  I  who 
arranged  or  ordered  things  when  Mac  was 
about.     He  was  silent  for  a  while. 

"There's  nothing  for  it,"  he  said  at  last, 
"but  one  thing.  We  must  put  all  the  other 
kieutan  can  stand  on  him." 

By  this  time  I  had  got  the  pack  olf  Dick, 
and  he  lay  down  perfectly  flat  upon  his  side, 
with  the  blood  slowly  oozing  from  his  knees, 
and  his  flanks  still  heaving  from  the  exer- 
tions which  had  brought  him  up  +he  hill  to 
die  on  the  top  of  it. 

"Ooiue  on,"  said  Mac,  as  he  moved  oflF  witli 
what  lie  meant  to  put  on  the  other  pony. 

But  at  ilrst  I  could  not  go.  I  put  my  hand 
in  my  pocket,  took  out  a  piece  of  bread,  and, 
kneeling  down  by  tlie  poor  animal,  I  put  it  to 
his  lips.     He  mumbled  it  with  his  teeth  and 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


131 


dropped  it  out.  Then  in  my  hat  I  got  some 
water  out  of  a  little  pool  and  offered  it  to 
him.  He  drank  some  and  then  fell  back 
again.  I  took  my  revolver  from  my  belt, 
stroked  his  soft  nose  once  more,  and,  putting 
the  weapon  to  his  head  between  his  eye  and 
ear,  I  fired.  He  shivered  all  over,  stiffened  a 
little,  and  all  was  still  except  tor  the  slow 
tin]  ■^  the  blood  that  ran  out  of  his  ear  from 
a  vein  the  ball  had  divided.  Then  I  went 
on — and  I  hope  no  one  will  think  me  weak 
if  I  confess  my  sight  was  not  quite  so  clear 
as  it  had  been  before,  and  if  there  was  a 
strange  haziness  about  the  cruelly  cold  trail 
and  mountn-in  side  that  did  not  come  from 
the  fall^r >:^  c^i ;ow. 

At  our  »^/  iip  that  night  we  spoke  little 
more  than  was  absolutely  necessary,  and 
turned  in  as  soon  as  we  had  eater  supper, 
drunk  a  tin  of  coffee,  and  smoked  a  couple  of 
pipes.  Fortunately  for  the  remaining  horse, 
in  the  p^  -    ve  had  reached  there  was  a  little 


Illll 


t& 


if'        ■"  1 


111    I 
I 


I 


mm 


M 


i   P! 
11 


!!n'!li 


iii|i 


m 
i 


mr--&' 


fill  I ' 

llllllHI' 


132 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


feed,  a  few  tussocks  of  withering  frost-nipped 
bunch  grass,  which  he  ate  greedily  to  the  last 
roots  his  sharp  teeth  could  reach.  And  then 
he  pawed  or  "rustled"  for  more,  using  his 
hoof  to  bare  what  was  hidden  under  the 
snow.  But  for  that  we  should  have  left  him 
on  the  trail  next  mornini^r 

The  toil  and  suft'ering  he  third  day's 
march  were  dreadful,  for  I  grew  footsore,  and 
my  feet  bled  at  the  heels,  while  the  skin  rose 
in  blisters  on  every  toe,  which  rapidly  be- 
came raw.  But  Mac  was  a  man  of  iron,  and 
never  faltered  or  grew  tired;  and  his  ex- 
ample, and  a  feeling  of  shame  at  being  out- 
done by  another,  kept  me  doggedly  behind 
him  at  a  few  paces'  distance.  How  the  pony 
stood  that  day  was  a  miracle,  for  he  must 
have  been  made  of  iron  and  not  flesh  and 
blood  to  carry  his  pack,  while  climbing  up 
and  sliding  down  the  steep  ascents  and  slopes 
of  the  hills,  while  every  few  yards  some 
wind-felled  tree  had  to  be  clambered  over 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


133 


almost  as  a  dog  would  do  it.  He  was  always 
clammy  with  sweat,  but  he  seemed  in  better 
condition  than  on  the  second  day,  perhaps  on 
account  of  the  grass  he  had  been  able  to  get 
during  the  night.  Yet  he  had  had  to  ^vork 
all  night  to  get  it,  while  I  and  Mac  had  slept 
in  the  torpor  of  great  exhaustion. 

Late  in  the  evening  we  came  to  the  banks 
of  the  Columbia,  across  which  stretched  sandy 
flats  and  belts  of  scrub,  until  the  level  ended, 
and  lofty  mountains  rose  once  more,  covered 
Avith  snow  and  fringed  with  sullen  clouds, 
thousands  of  feet  above  where  we  stood. 
Mac  stopped,  and  looked  anxiously  across  the 
broad  stream ;  and  Avhen  he  saw  a  faint  curl 
of  bluish  smoke  rising  a  mile  away  in  the 
shunless  ail',  he  pointed  to  it  with  a  more 
pleased  expression  that  I  had  seen  on  his  face 
since  he  had  roused  me  so  hurriedly  on  that 
snowy  morning  three  days  ago. 

"There  is  somebody  over  there,  at  any 
rate,   old   man,"   he   said  almost  cheerfully 


■%;^ 


liwiiil! 


IIJjjjjM  j 


■ 


i  lii. 


11  I 


134 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"though  I  don't  know  what  the  thunder 
they're  doing  here,  unless  it's  Montana  Bill 
come  up  trapping.  He  said  he  was  going  to 
do  it,  but  if  so,  what's  he  doing  down  here  ? " 

"  Can't  he  trap  here,  then  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Well,"  replied  Mac,  "  this  might  be  the 
end  of  his  line;  but  still,  he  ought  to  be 
farther  up  in  the  hills. .  There  isn't  much 
to  trap  close  down  on  this  flat.  You  see 
trappers  usually  have  two  camps,  and  they 
walk  the  line  during  the  day,  and  take  out 
what  is  caught  in  the  night,  setting  the 
traps  again,  and  sleeping  first  at  one  end  and 
then  at  the  other.  However,  we  shall  see 
when  we  get  across."  And  he  set  about 
lighting  a  fire. 

When  we  had  crossed  before  there  had 
been  a  rough  kind  of  boat  built  out  of  pine 
slabs,  which  was  as  crazy  a  craft  to  go  in  as 
a  butter-tub.  It  had  been  made  by  some 
hunters  the  winter  before,  and  left  there 
when  they  went  west  in  the   early  spring, 


A    GOLDlJN    LINK. 


135 


before  we  came  up.  I  asked  Mac  what  bad 
become  of  it,  for  it  was  not  where  we  had 
left  it,  hauled  up  a  little  way  on  a  piece  of 
shingle  and  tied  to  a  stump. 

"  Somebody  took  it,"  he  said,  "  or  mor** 
likely,  when  the  water  rose  after  we  crossed, 
it  was  carried  away.  Perhaps  it's  in  the 
Pacific  by  this." 

I  went  down  to  the  stump,  and  found 
there  the  remains  of  the  painter,  and  as  it 
had  been  broken  violently  and  not  cut,  I 
saw  that  his  last  suggestion  was  probably 
correct. 

We  sat  down  to  supper  by  our  fire,  which 
gleamed  brightly  in  the  gathering  darkness 
on  the  surrounding  snow  and  the  waters 
close  beneath  us,  and  ate  some  very  vile 
bacon  and  a  greasy  mess  of  beans  which  we 
had  cooked  the  night  before  we  left  our 
mountain  camp. 

"  How  are  we  going  to  cross,  Mac  ? "  said 
I,  when  we  had  lighted  our  pipes. 


"! 


if 


I  i! 


II 


11 


1 1 


til 


136 


THE  MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"Build  a  raft,"  said  he. 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  When  we  are  over  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  Why,  stay  there,  I  guess,  if  it  snows  any 
more.  One  more  fall  of  heavy  snow  will 
block  Eagle  Pass  as  sure  as  fire's  hot ! " 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders.  Though  I  had 
been  expecting  this,  it  was  not  pleasant  to 
have  the  prospect  of  spending  a  whole  winter 
mewed  up  in  the  mountains,  so  close  before 
me. 

"  Does  it  get  very  cold  here  ?  "  I  asked  at 
length,  when  I  had  reflected  for  a  while. 

He  nodded  sardonically. 

"  Does  it  get  cold  ?     Is  it  cold  now  ? " 

I  drew  closer  to  the  fire  for  an  answer. 

"  Then  this  is  nothin' — nothin'  at  all.  It 
would  f reez  ^  the  tail  oft'  a  brass  monkey  up 
here.  It  goes  more  than  forty  below  zero 
often  and  often  ;  and  it's  a  worse  kind  of  cold 
than  the  cold  back  east,  for  it's  damper  here, 


lilL 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


137 


and  not  so  steady.  Bah!  I  wish  I  was  a 
bear,  so  as  to  hole  up  till  spring." 

All  of  which  [was  very  encouraging  to  a 
man  who  had  mostly  sailed  in  warm  latitudes, 
and  hated  a  frost  worse  than  poison.  And 
it  didn't  please  me  to  see  that  so  good-tem- 
pered a  man  as  Mac  was  really  put  out  and 
in  a  vile  humor,  for  he  knew  what  I  could 
only  imagine. 

The  conversation — if  conversation  it  could 
be  called — ^flagged  very  soon,  and  we  got  out 
our  blankets,  scraping  away  the  snow  from 
a  place,  where  we  lay  close  to  each  other  in 
order  to  preserve  what  warmth  we  could. 
We  lay  in  the  position  commonly  called  in 
America  "  spooning,"  like  two  spoons  fitting 
one  into  another,  so  that  there  had  to  be 
common  consent  for  changing  sides,  one  of 
which  grew  damp  while  the  other  grew  cold. 
Just  as  we  were  settling  down  to  sleep  we 
heard  the  sudden  crack  of  a  rifle  from  the 
other  shore,  and  against  the  wind  came  a 


mm 


138 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"  halloa  "  across  the  water.  Mac  sat  up  very 
unconcernedly ;  but,  as  for  me,  I  jumped  as 
if  I  had  been  shot,  thinking  of  course  at  first 
that  the  shot  had  been  fii'ed  by  Indians, 
though  I  knew  there  were  no  hostile  tribes 
in  that  part  of  British  Columbia,  where,  in- 
deed, most  of  the  Indians  are  very  peace- 
able. 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  Mac;  "that's  Mon- 
tana Bill's  rifle.  I  sold  it  him  myself.  He's 
the  only  man  up  here  that  carries  a  Sharp." 

He  rose,  and  went  down  to  the  water's 
edge.  "  Halloa !  "  he  shouted,  in  his  turn 
and  in  the  quietness  of  the  windless  air  I 
heard  it  faintly  repeated  in  distant  echoes. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mac  ? "  said  the  mysterious 
voice. 

"  You  bet  it  is ! "  answered  my  partner, 
in  a  tone  that  ought  to  have  been  heard  on 
the  Arrow  Lake.  '  .  '  / 

"Bully  old  boy! "said  Bill  faintly,  as  it 
seemed.     "  Do  you  know  me  ? " 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


139 


"Aye,  I  reckon  I  know  old  Montana's 
bellow ! "  roared  Mac. 

"  Then  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning,  pard ! " 
came  the  voice  again,  after  which  there  was 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  faint  lap  of  the 
water  on  the  shingle,  as  it  slipped  past,  and 
the  snort  of  our  pony  as  he  blew  the  snow 
out  of  his  nostrils,  vainly  seeking  for  a  tuft 
of  grass. 

We  rose  at  earliest  dawn,  and  saw  Mon- 
tana Bill  slowly  coming  over  the  level.  He 
sat  down  while  Mac  and  I  built  a  raft,  and 
fashioned  a  couple  of  rude  paddles  with  the 
ax. 

"  Is  the  pony  coming  across,  Mac  ? "  I 
asked. 

"  We'll  try  it,  but  it's  his  own  lookout," 
said  he ;  "  if  he  won't  come  easy  we  shan't 
drag  him,  for  we  shall  hev  to  paddle  to  do  it 
ourselves." 

Fortunately  for  him  he  did  want  to  go 
over,  and,  having  a  long  lariat  round  his  neck, 


140 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVKR. 


he  actually  swam  in  front  of  us,  and  gave  us 
a  tow  instead  of  our  giving  bim  one. 

As  we  were  going  over,  Mac  said  to  me : 

"  I  never  thought  I'd  be  glad  to  see  Mon- 
tana Bill  before.  He's  got  more  gas  and 
blow  about  him  than'd  set  up  a  town,  and 
he's  no  more  good  at  bottom — that  is,  he 
aint  no  more  grit  in  him  than  a  clay  bank, 
though  to  hear  him  talk  you'd  think  he'd 
mor'n  a  forty-two  inch  grindstone.  But  I 
hope  he's  got  a  good  stock  of  grub." 

In  a  few  minutes  we  touched  bottom,  and 
we  shook  hands  with  the  subject  of  Mac's 
eulogium,  who  looked  as  bold  as  brass,  as 
fierce  as  a  turkeycock,  and  had  the  voice  of 
a  man-o'-war's  bo'son.  We  took  the  lariat 
oil'  the  pony,  and  turned  him  adrift. 

"  Did  you  fellows  strike  it  ? "  said  Bill,  the 
first  thing. 

"  Enough  to  pay  for  our  winter's  board,  I 
reckon,"  said  Mac.  "Have  you  got  plenty 
of  grub?" 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


141 


Bill  nodded,  using  the  common  American 
word  for  yes,  which  is  a  kind  of  cross-breed 
between  '^  yea "  and  the  German  "  Ja,"  pro- 
nounced shoii;  like  "  ye." 

"  You  bet  I've  plenty.  Old  Ilank  kem 
up  with  me,  and  then  he  cleared  out  again. 
He  and  I  kind  of  disagreed  first  thing,  and 
he  just  skinned  out.  Good  thing  too — for 
hira  ! " 

And  Bill  looked  unutterable  things. 

"  Is  there  any  chance  of  getting  out  over 
tne  pass  ? "  asked  Mac. 

"  If  you  can  fly,"  answered  Bill.  "  Drifts 
is  forty  foot  deep  in  parts,  and  soft  too.  I 
could  hardly  get  on  snow-shoein'  it.  Better 
stay  and  trap  with  me.  Better'n  gold- 
huntn'  any  time,  and  more  dollars  in  it." 

"  Why  aint  you  farther  up  in  the  hills  ? " 
asked  Mac,  as  we  tramped  along. 

"  Dunno,"  said  Bill ;  "  I  allers  camp  here 
every  year.  It's  kind  of  clear,  and  there's  a 
chance  for  the  cayuses  to  pick  a  bit  to  keep 


■i 


tiilj 

ii'llil 


II 


142 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


bones  and  hide  togecher.  Besides,  I  feel 
more  freer  down  here.  I  see  more  than  'ull 
do  me  of  the  hills  walking  the  line." 

And  with  that  we  came  to  his  camp. 

Now,  if  I  tell  all  that  happened  during 
that  winter,  which  was,  all  round,  the  most 
uncomfortable  and  most  unhappy  one  I  ever 
spent,  for  I  had  so  much  time  to  think  of 
Elsie,  an*!  how  some  other  man  '^lore  to  her 
mind  might  go  to  windward  of  me  in  court- 
ing her — why,  I  should  not  write  one  book^ 
but  two,  which  is  not  my  inr/erticji  now. 
Besides,  I  have  been  long  enough  coming  to 
the  most  serious  part  of  m^'  history  to  tire 
other  people,  as  it  has  tired  me ;  although 
I  could  not  exactly  help  it,  because  all,  or  at 
least  nearly  all,  that  happened  between  the 
time  I  was  on  the  Vancouver  and  the  time  we 
all  met  again  seems  important  to  me,  especially 
as  it  might  have  gone  very  differently  if  I  had 
♦  never  been  gold-hunting  in  the  Selkirks,  or 
even  if  I  had  got  out  of  tlio  mountains  in  the 


T 


A    GOLDEN    LINK. 


143 


at 
the 
we 

lad 
,or 
the 


fall  instead  of  the  following  spring.  For 
things  seem  linked  together  in  lifti,  and,  in 
writing,  one  must  put  everything  in  unless 
more  paiticular  description  becomes  tedious, 
because  of  its  interfering  with  the  story 
And  though  trapping  is  interesting  enough, 
yet  I  am  not  writing  here  about  that  or  hunt- 
ing, which  is  more  interesting  still ;  and  when 
a  man  tells  me  a  yarn  he  says  is  about  a  cer- 
tain thing,  I  don't  want  him  to  break  off  in 
the  middle  to  say  something  quite  different, 
any  more  than  I  like  a  man  to  get  up  in 
the  middle  of  a  job  of  work,  such  as  a  long 
splice  which  is  wanted,  to  do  something  he 
wasn't  ordered  to  do.  It's  only  a  way  of 
doing  '\  literaiy  Tom  Cox's  traverse,  "  three 
times  round  the  deck  house,  and  once  to 
the  scuttle-butt" — just  putting  in  time,  or 
making  what  a  literary  friend  of  mine  caVs 
"  padding." 

So   folks  ^vho    read   this  can   understand 
why  I  shall  say  nothing  of  this  long   and 


144 


THE  MATE  OB^  THE  VANCOUVER. 


weary  winter,  and,  if  they  prefer  it,  they  can 
think  that  we  "  holed  up,"  as  Mac  said,  like 
the  bears,  and  slept  through  it  all.  For  in 
the  next  part  of  this  yarn  it  will  be  spring, 
with  the  snow  melting  fast,  and  the  trail  be- 
ginning to  look  like  a  path  again  that  even  a 
sailor,  who  was  not  a  mountaineer,  could 
hope  to  travel  on  without  losing  his  life,  or 
even  his  way. 


Part  IV. 


LOVE   AND   HATE. 


It  had  b'^en  raininjjj  for  a  week  in  an  inces- 
sant  torrent,  while  the  heavy  clouds  hung 
]ow  down  the  slopes  of  the  sullen,  sunless 
mountains,  when  we  struck  camp  in  the 
spring-time,  and  loaded  our  gaunt  pack- 
ponies  for  the  rapidly  opening  trail.  Our 
}'oad  lay  for  some  twenty  miles  on  the 
bottom  of  a  flat,  which  closed  in  more  uud 
more  as  we  went  east,  until  we  were  in  the 
heart  of  the  Gold  Range.  The  path  was 
liquid  mud,  in  which  we  sank  to  the  tops  of 
our  long  boots,  sometimes  even  leaving  them 
embedded  there  ;  and  the  ponies  were  nearly 
"  sloughed  down  "  a  dozen  times  in  the  day. 
At  the  worst  places  we  were  sometimes  com- 
pelled to    take  off  their    packs,    which    we 

145 


!•:  h  i 


i 


,.  I 


146 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


carried  piecemeal  to  firmer  ground,  and  there 
loaded  them  again.  It  had  taken  ns  but 
four  or  four  and  a  half  days  to  cross  it  on 
our  last  trip,  and  now  we  barely  reached 
Summit  Lake  in  the  same  time. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  miserable  weather  and 
our  dank  and  dripping  condition,  in  spite  of 
the  hard  work  and  harder  idleness,  when 
wind  and  rain  made  it  almost  impossible  to 
sleep,  I  was  happy — far  happier  than  I  had 
been  since  the  time  I  had  so  miserably  failed 
to  make  Elsie  believe  what  I  told  her;  for 
now  I  was  going  back  to  her  with  the  results 
of  my  long  toil,  and  there  was  nothing  to 
prevent  my  staying  near  her,  perhaps  on  a 
farm  of  my  own,  until  she  should  recognize 
her  error  at  last.  Yet,  I  thought  it  well  to 
waste  no  time,  for  though  I  had  to  a 
great  extent  got  rid  of  my  fears  concerning 
that  wretched  Matthias,  still  his  imprison- 
ment had  but  a  few  more  months  to  run,  and 
he  might  keep  his  word  and  his  sworn  oath. 


LOVE    AND    H^E. 


147 


I  wished  to  win  her  and  wear  her  before  that 
time,  and  after  that,  why,  I  did  not  care,  I 
would  do  my  best,  and  trust  in  Providence, 
even  if  I  trusted  in  v  ain. 

I  have  often  thought  since  that  it  was 
strange  how  much  John  Harmer  was  in  my 
mind,  from  daylight  even  to  dark,  during  the 
sixth  day  of  our  toilsome  tramp  over  Eagle 
Pass,  for  his  image  often  unaccountably  came 
before  me,  and  even  dispossessed  the  fair  face 
of  her  whom  I  loved.  But  it  was  so,  and 
no  time  during  tliat  day  should  I  have  been 
very  much  surprised,  though  perhaps  a  little 
ang^y,  to  see  him  come  round  a  bend  in  the 
trail,  saying  half  humbly  and  half  im- 
pudently, as  he  approached  me,  "How  do 
you  do,  Mr.  Ticehurst  ? "  I  almost  began  to 
believe  after  that  day  in  second  sight,  clair- 
voyance, find  all  the  other  mysterious  things 
which  most  sensible  people  look  upon  as 
they  do  on  charlatanry  and  the  juggling  in  a 
fair,  for  my  presentiments  came  true  in  such 


i.i 


148 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


a  strange  way ;  even  if  it  was  only  an  accident 
or  mere  coincidence  after  all.  Yet  I  have 
seen  many  things  put  down  as  "coinci- 
dences "  which  puzzled  me,  and  wiser  people 
than  Tom  Ticehurst.  j 

We  had  camped  in  a  wretchedly  miserable 
spot,  which  had  nothing  to  recommend  it 
beyond  the  fact  that  there  really  was  some 
grass  there;  for  the  wall  of  rock  on  our 
right,  which  both  Mac  and  Bill  considered  a 
protection  from  the  wind,  acted  as  break- 
winds  often  do,  and  gave  us  two  gales  in 
opposite  directions,  instead  of  one.  So  the 
wind,  instead  of  sweeping  over  us  and  going 
on  its  way,  fought  and  contended  over  our 
heads,  and  only  ceased  for  a  moment  to  rush 
skrieking  again  about  our  ears  as  it  leapt  on 
the  fire  and  sent  the  embers  here  and  there, 
while  the  rain  descended  at  every  possible 
angle.  Perhaps  it  was  on  account  of  the 
fizzing  of  the  water  in  the  fire,  the  rattle 
of  the  branches  overhead,  and  the  whistling 


i!r'':|!lli 


ML:h\ 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


149 


\  ^ 


of  the  wind,  that  we  heard  no  one  approach- 
ing our  grumbling  company  until  they  were 
right  upon  us.  I  was  just  then  half  a  dozen 
paces  out  in  the  darkness,  cutting  up  some 
wood  for  our  fire,  and  as  the  strangers 
approached  the  light,  I  let  fall  my  ax  so 
that  it  narrowly  escaped  cutting  off  my  big 
toe,  for  one  of  the  two  I  saw  was  a  boy, 
and  that  boy  John  Harmer !  I  slouched  my 
big  hat  down  over  my  eyes,  and  with  some 
wood  in  my  arms  I  approached  the  group 
and  replenished  the  fire.  John  was  talking 
with  quite  a  Western  twang,  as  though 
he  was  determined  not  to  be  taken  for  an 
Englishman. 

"Rain!"  he  was  saying;  "well,  you  bet 
it's  something  like  it !  On  the  lake  it  takes 
an  old  hand  to  know  which  is  land  and 
which  is  water.  Old  Hank  was  nearly 
drowned  in  his  tent  the  other  day." 

"  Serve  him  right ! "  growled  Bill.  "  But 
who  are  you,  young  feller  ? — I  never  see  you 


i 


It  It;. 


160 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVEB. 


f  I 


.ji!i:! 


1 1 

li 

'■■iillll  i 

I 

M 


m  1 


■y.M\ 


before,  and  I  mostly  know  everybody  in  this 
country."  / 

Harmer  looked  up  coolly,  and  taking  off 
his  hat,  swung  it  round. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  I  aint  what  you'd 
call  celebrated  in  B.  C.  yet,  and  so  you 
mightn't  have  heard  of  me.  But  if  you 
know  everybody,  perhaps  you  know  Tom 
Ticehurst  and  can  tell  me  where  he  is  to 
be  found.     For  I  am  looking  for  him." 

"  Oh,  you  are,  are  you  ? "  said  Bill. 
"  Then  what's  he  been  doing  that  you  want 
him  so  bad  as  to  come  across  in  this  trail  this 
weather  ? "  ; 

"He  hasn't  been  doing  anything  that  I 

know,  pard,"  said  Jack;   "but   I   know  he 

was  up  here   with   a  man  named   Mackin- 
tosh." 

"  Ah  !  I  know  him,"  replied  Bill,  "  in  fact, 
I've  seen  him  lately.  Is  Tom  Ticehurst  a 
little  chap  with  red  hair  and  a  squint  ? " 

*  No,  he  isn't ! "  shouted  Jack,  as  if  he  had 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


151 


been  libeled  instead  of  me.  "  He's  a  good 
looking  fellow,  big  enough  to  eat  you." 

"  Oh,  is  he  ? "  sneered  the  joker.  "  I  tell 
you  what,  young  feller,  it  would  take  a  big 
man  to  chew  up  Montana  Bill's  little  finger." 

Harmer  burst  out  laughing. 

"  So  you're  Montana  Bill,  are  you  ? "  said 
he. 

"  I  am,"  answered  Bill  as  gravely  as  if  it 
were  a  kingly  title. 

"  Well,  then,  old  Hank  said  he  could  eat 
you  up  without  pepper  or  salt.  He's  as  mad 
at  you  as  a  man  can  be;  says  he's  been 
practicing  shooting  all  the  winter  on  purpose 
to  do  you  up,  and  he  puts  a  new  edge  on  his 
knife  every  morning." 

'^  That'll  do,  young  feller,"  put  in  Mac, 
seeing  that  Bill  was  getting  in  a  rage,  and 
knowing  that  he  was  just  the  man  to  have 
a  row  with  a  youngster.  "  \  ou're  a  little 
too  fast,  you  are.  My  name's  Mackintosh,  if 
you  want  anyone  of  that  name." 


!lic 


m 


n 


m 


:■;§ 


mm} 


ml 


4«*k: 


"111 
'I 


ill 


|,,--  ., ',,1 


iii'' 


162 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"  Do  I  want  you ! "  cried  Hanner  anxiously ; 
"  of  course  I  do !  Do  you  know  where 
Ticehurst  is  ? "       , 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mac ;  while  I  stood  close 
beside  Harmer  looking  down  at  the  fire  so 
that  he  couldn't  see  my  face — I  was  laugh- 
ing so. 

"  Then  where  is  he  ?  Hang  it !  has  any- 
thing happened  to  him  that  you  fellows  make 
such  a  mystery  about  it  ?  "  he  asked  getting  a 
little  alarmed,  as  I  could  tell  by  the  tone  of 
his  voice. 

"  Well,"  replied  Mac  quietly,  "  I'll  tell  you. 
He  was  up  in  the  hills  with  me,  and  we 
struck  it  rich — got  a  lot  of  gold,  we  did,  you 
bet  we  did,"  he  went  on  in  an  irritating 
drawl ;  "  and  then  came  down  when  the  snow 
flew.  We  had  such  a  time  getting  out,  young 
feller,  and  then  at  last  we  came  to  the  Col- 
umbia and  there " 

"  He  was  drowned  ?  "  said  Harmer  growing- 
pale.  - 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


153 


"No,  he  warn't,"  replied  Mac.  "We  got 
across  all  right,  and  stayed  all  winter  trapping 
with  Bill  here.  And  let  me  tell  you,  young 
man,  you  mustn't  trifle  with  Bill.  He's  a 
snorter,  he  is." 

I  could  see  "  Damn  Bill !  "  almost  on  Jack's 
lips,  but  he  restrained  it. 

"  And  when  the  Chinook  came  up,  and  the 
snow  began  to  melt  a  few  days  back,  we  all 
got  ready  to  cross  the  range — him,  and  Bill, 
and  me.  That's  six  days  ago.  And  a  better 
fellow  than  him  you  never  struck,  no,  nor 
will.  What  do  you  think,  pard  ?  "  he  asked 
with  a  grin,  turning  to  me. 

I  grunted. 

"  And,  young  feller,"  Mac  went  on  again, 
"  if  he's  a  pardner  of  yours,  or  a  shipmate — 
for  I  can  see  you're  an  Englishman — why,  I'm 
glad  he's  here  and  safe." 

Then  suddenly  altering  his  tone,  he  turned 
fiercely  on  Harmer,  who  jumped  back  in 
alarm. 


illl 


ll  « 


154 


THE   MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"Why  the  thunder  don't  you  shake 
hands  with  him  ?     There  he  is  a-waitin'." 

And  John  sprang  across  the  fire  and  caught 
lue  by  both  hands. 

"  Confound  it,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  how  very 
unkind  of  you  ! "  he  said,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes.  "I  began  to  think  you  were  dead." 
And  he  looked  unutterably  relieved  and 
happy,  but  bursting  with  some  news,  I  could 
see. 

"  Wait  till  supper.  Jack,"  said  I ;  "  and 
then  tell  me.  But  I'm  glad  to  see 
you." 

I  was  too,  in  spite  of  his  leaving  the  Inlet 
without  asking  me. 

As  to  the  man  with  whom  he  came,  Mon- 
tana Bill  knew  him,  and  they  spent  their 
time  in  bullying  the  absent  Hank  Patterson. 
It  appeared  that  Harmer  had  hired  him  to 
come  and  hunt  for  me  as  far  as  the  Columbia 
River,  in  order  to  bury  me  decently,  as  he 
had  been  firmly  convinced  that  I  was  dead, 


S_    I  111  I 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


165 


when  he  learnt  no  news  of  me  at  the 
Landing. 

The  whole  five  of  na  sat  down  to  beans 
and  bacon ;  but  I  and  Ilarnier  ate  ^ery  little 
because  he  wanted  to  tell  me  something 
which  I  was  strangely  loth  to  hear,  so  sure 
was  I  that  it  could  be  nothing  good.  It 
cei*ti:!uly  must  be  bad  news  to  bring  even  an 
impulsive  youngster  from  the  coast  to  the 
Columbia  in  such  weather. 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  Harmer  ? "  said  I  at 
last. 

He  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  Is  it  anything  about  her  V  I  asked 
quietly,  lest  the  others  should  overhear. 

"  Who  ?  Miss  F.  ?  "  he  asked.  I  nodded, 
and  he  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  no  such  lack,"  he  went  on ;  "  but  I 
am  so  doubtful  of  what  I  have  to  tell  you, 
although  a  few  hours  ago  I  was  sure  enough 
that  I  didn't  know  how  to  begin.  When 
will  Mat's  sentence  be  up,  Mr.  Ticehurst  ? " 


iijtiiiii 

liiiii 


'I 


•;i 


n'i.^}\ 


till 


'iHeti 


%■    :i 


t..- 


156 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I  had  no  need  to  reckon. 

"  The  15tb  of  August,  Jack." 

He  looked  at  me,  and  then  bent  over 
toward  me. 

"  It's  up  already,  sir." 

"  What,  is  he  dead,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  but  he  has  escaped." 

And  he  filled  his  pipe  while  I  gathered 
myself  together.  It  was  drea,dfully  un- 
fortunate if  it  were  true. 

*^  How  do  you  know  this  ? "  I  said  at 
length. 

"I  saw  him  in  New  Westminster  one 
night." 

"  The  deuce  you  did !  Harmer,  are  you 
sure  ? " 

The  lad  looked  uncomfortable,  and  wriggled 
about  on  his  seat,  which  was  the  old  stump 
of  a.  tree  felled  by  some  former  occupants  of 
our  camping  ground. 

"  I  should  have  been  perfectly  sure,  if  I 
hadn't  thought  he  was  in  the  penitentiary," 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


157 


he  said  finally ;  "  but  still,  I  don't  think  I 
can  have  mistaken  his  face,  even  though  I 
only  caught  sight  of  it  just  for  a  moment 
down  in  the  Indian  town.  I  was  sitting  in 
a  cabin  with  two  other  fellows  and  some 
klootchmen,  and  I  saw  him  pass.  There  was 
not  much  light,  and  he  was  going  quick,  but 
I  jumped  up  and  rushed  out  after  him.  But 
in  the  rain  and  darkness  he  got  away,  if  he 
thought  anyone  was  following  him ;  or  I 
missed  him." 

"  I'm  glad  you  did,  my  boy ;  he  would 
have  thought  little  of  putting  his  knife  into 
you,"  and  here  I  rubbed  my  own  shoulder 
mechanically.  "  Besides,  if  he  had  seen  you, 
that  would  have  helped  him  to  track  me. 
But  then,  how  in  the  name  of  thunder  (as 
Mae  says)  did  he  come  here  at  all !  It  can't 
be  chance.  Did  you  look  up  the  San  Fran- 
cisco papers  to  see  if  anything  was  reported 
as  to  his  escape  ? " 

Hanner  brightened  as  if  glad  to  answer 


;■   i 


^ii    ^ 


Is-;.':    :  \\ 


ISV  1 


168 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


that  he  had  done  what  I  considered  he  ought 
to  have  done. 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  did ;  but  I  found  nothing 
about  it,  nothing  at  all." 

I  reflected  a  little,  and  saw  nothing  clearly, 
after  all,  but  the  imperative  necessity  of  my 
getting  down  to  the  Forks.  If  Mat  were 
loose,  why,  I  should  have  to  be  very  careful, 
it  was  true ;  but  perhaps  he  might  be  re- 
taken, though  I  did  not  know  if  a  man  could 
be  extradited  for  simply  breaking  prison. 
And  if  he  came  up  country,  and  couldn't 
find  me,  he  might  take  it  into  his  Oriental 
skull  to  harm  anyone  I  knew.  The  thought 
made  me  shiver. 

"Did  you  stay  at  Thomson  Forks, 
Harmer  ? "  I  asked,  to  try  and  turn  the  dark 
current  of  my  thoughts. 

He  blushed  a  little. 

"  Yes,^sir,  but  only  a  day.  I  saw  no  one, 
though." 

"  What,  not  even  Fanny  ? " 


^W 


^^: 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


159 


"  No,  but  I  wrote  to  her  and  told  her  I 
was  going  up  the  Lakes  to  see  what  had  be- 
come of  you." 

"  That  was  kind  of  you,  Jack,"  said  I ;  "  I 
mean  it  was  kind  of  you  to  come  up  here. 
How  do  you  like  the  country,  eh  ?  " 

He  turned  round  comically,  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  said  nothing.  I  could  see 
that  early  spring  in  the  mountains  did  not 
please  him,  especially  as  we  were  in  the  Wet 
Belt. 

But  if  he  did  not  like  the  country,  I  found 
he  could  stand  it  well,  for  he  was  as  hardy 
as  a  pack  pony,  and  never  complained,  not 
though  we  were  delayed  a  whole  day  by  the 
rain,  and  on  our  return  to  the  Landing  had 
to  go  to  Thomson  Forks  in  Indian  dugouts. 
When  we  did  arrive  there  it  was  fine  at  last, 
and  the  sun  was  shining  brilliantly. 

Mac,  Harmer,  and  I  were  greeted  in  the 
friendliest  manner  at  the  hotel  by  Dave,  the 
bar-tender,  who  was  resplendent  with  a  white 


i»f 


i  I 


160 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


m  ■  >1 


fe'v  * 


shirt  of  the  very  finest  get  up,  and  diamond 
studs.     He  stood  us  drinks  at  once. 

"You're  welcome  to  it,  gentlemen,  and 
more  too.  For  we  did  think  down  here  that 
you  had  been  lost  in  the  snow.  We  nevei 
expected  to  hear  of  you  again.  I  think  a 
young  lady  round  here  must  have  an  interest 
in  you,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  he  knowingly, 
"  for  only  two  days  ago  she  called  me  out 
and  asked  more  than  particularly  about  you. 
When  I  told  her  nobody  knew  enough  t(> 
make  a  line  in  'Local  Items,'  unless  they 
said,  '  Nothing  has  yet  been  heard,'  I  reckon 
she  was  sorry." 

"  Who  was  it,  Dave  ?  "  I  asked  carelessly 
"Was  it  Miss  Fanny  Fleming? " 

"  No,  sir,  it  w^as  not ;  it  was  Miss  Fleming 
herself,  and  I  must  say  she's  a  daisy.  The 
best  looking  girl  between  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains and  the  Pacific,  gentlemen !  Miss 
Fanny  is  nice — a  pretty  girl  I  wnll  say ; 
but "    He  stopped  and  winked,  so  that  I 


M 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


161 


could  hardly  keep  from  tlirowing  ray  glass  at 
his  carefully  combed  and  oiled  head.  But  I 
was  happy  to  think  that  Elsie  had  asked 
after  me. 

In  the  morning  we  got  horses  from  Ned 
Conlan,  and  rode  over  to  Mr.  Fleming's  ranch, 
which  was  situated  in  a  long  low  valley, 
that  terminated  a  mile  above  his  house  in  a 
narrow  gulch,  down  which  the  creek  came. 
On  either  side  were  high  hills,  covered  on 
their  lower  slopes  with  bunch  grass  and  bull 
pines,  and  higher  up  with  thick  scrub,  that 
ran  at  last  into  bare  rock,  on  the  topmost 
peaks  of  which  snow  lay  for  nine  months  of 
the  year.  As  we  approached  the  farm,  we 
saw  a  few  of  the  cattle  on  the  opposing 
slopes;  and  on  the  near  side  of  the  valley 
were  the  farm-buildings  and  the  house  itself, 
which  was  partly  hidden  in  trees.  We  tied 
our  horses  to  the  fence,  and  marched  in,  as  we 
fancied,  as  bold  as  brass  in  appearance ;  but 
if  Harmer  felt  half  as  uncomfortable  as  I  did. 


162 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


4- 


m 


ii^:^ 

■       * 

f\- .  : 

:  ..::;:) 

'"'j,'/, 

'''il 

1v" 

ilij 

if; 

1  ■     '■] 

which  I  doubt,  I  am  sorry  for  him.  The 
first  person  we  saw  was  Fanny,  and  the  first 
thing  she  did  w^as  to  upset  lie"  chair  on  the 
veranda  on  the  top  of  a  sleeping  dog,  who 
at  first  howled,  and  then  made  a  rush  at  us 
barking  loudly. 

"  Down,  Di !  "  cried  Fanny.  "  How  dare 
you !  O  Mr.  Ticehurst,  how  glad  I  am 
you're  not  dead  !  And  you,  too,  Mr.  Harmer, 
though  no  one  said  you  were  !  Oh,  where's 
father,  I  wonder — he'll  be  glad,  too  ! " 

"  And  Elsie,  will  she  be  glad  as  well, 
Fanny  ? "  I  asked.  She  looked  at  me  slyly, 
and  nodded. 

"You'd  better  ask  her,  I  think.  Here 
comes  father." 

He  rode  up  on  horseback,  followed  b}' 
Siwash  Jim,  swinging  the  noose  of  a  lariat  in 
his  right  hand,  as  though  he  had  been  after 
horses  or  cattle. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  Tom,  is  it  ?  "  said  Fleming, 
who    was    looking    veiy    well.     "  I'm   glad 


; 


LOVE  AND    HATU. 


163 


you're  not  quite  so  dead  as  I  was  told.  And 
you,  Harmer,  how  are  you  ?  Jim,  take  these 
gentlemen's  horses  to  the  stable,  YouVe 
come  to  stay  for  dinner,  of  course.  I  shan't 
let  you  g(..  I  heard  you  did  very  well  gold- 
gambliug  last  fall.  Come  in!"  For  that 
news  went  down  the  country  when  we  went 
to  the  Landing  for  grub. 

I  followed,  wondering  a  little  whether 
he  would  have  been  quite  so  effusive  if  I 
had  done  badly.  But  I  soon  forgot  that 
when  I  saw  Elsie,  who  had  just  come  out  of 
her  room.  I  thought,  when  I  saw  her,  that 
she  was  a  little  paler  than  when  we  had  last 
met,  though  perhaps  that  was  due  to  the 
unaccustomed  cold  and  the  sunless  winter; 
but  she  more  than  ever  merited  the  rough 
tribute  which  Dave  had  paid  her  in  Conlan's 
bar.  She  was  very  beautiful  to  them ;  but 
how  much  more  to  me,"as  she  came  up,  a  little 
nd  shook  hanc 


sbyly, 


softly,  saying 


she  was  glad  that  the  bad  news  they  had 


i 


m  il 


1  .    .,t 


:«' 


164 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


1 II 5 


!■  *ll 


heard  of  me  was  not  true.  I  fancied  that  she 
had  thought  of  me  often  during  that  winter, 
and  perhaps  had  seen  she  had  been  unjust. 
At  any  rate,  there  was  a  great  difference 
between  what  she  was  then  and  Avhat  she  was 
now. 

We  talked  during  dinner  about  the  winter, 
which  the  three  Australians  almost  cursed  ; 
in  fact,  the  father  did  curse  it  very  admi- 
rably, while  Elsie  hardly  reproved  his  strong 
language,  so  much  did  she  feel  that  forty 
degrees  below  zero  merited  all  the  oppro- 
brium that  could  be  cast  on  it.  I  described 
our  gold-mining  adventures  and  the  win- 
ter's tiapping,  which,  by  the  way,  had 
added  five  hundred  dollars  tc  my  other 
money. 

I  told  Fleming  that  I  was  now  worth,  with 
some  I  still  had  at  home,  more  than  five 
thousand  dollars,  and  I  could  see  it  gave  him 
satisfaction. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  country  now, 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


165 


Mr.  Flemiug?"  I  asked;  "and  how  loug 
shall  you  stay  here  ? " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  don't  know,  my  boy,"  he  answered  ;  "  I 
think,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  we  shall  have  to 
stand  another  winter  here.  This  summer  I 
must  rebuild  the  barns  and  stables ;  there 
are  still  a  lot  of  cattle  adrift  somewhere ; 
and  I  won't  sell  out  under  a  certain  sum. 
That's  business,  you  know ;  and  I  have  just  a 
little  about  me,  though  I  am  an  old  fool  at 
times,  when  the  girls  want  their  own  ^vay." 

"  What  would  you  advise  me  to  do  ?  "  said 
I,  hoping  he  would  give  me  some  advice 
which  I  could  flatter  him  by  taking.  "  You 
see,  when  one  has  so  much  money,  it  is  only 
the  correct  thing  to  make  more  of  it.  The 
question  is  how  to  do  it." 

"  That's  quite  right,  Ticehurst — quite 
right ! "  said  he  energetically.  '^  I'm  glad 
you  talk  like  that ;  your  head's  screwed  on 
right ;  you  will  be  well  in  yet "  (an  Austra- 


;l 


'f'^ 


166 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


lian  phrase  for  our  "  well  off  "),  "  I'll  bet  on 
that.  Well,  you  can  open  a  store,  or  go  lum- 
bering, or  gold-mining,  or  hunting,  or  raise 
cattle,  like  me." 

I  pretended  to  reflect,  though  I  nearly 
laughed  at  catching  Harmer's  eye,  for  he 
knew  quite  well  what  I  wanted  to  do. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Fleming,  you're  right.  That's 
nearly  all  one  can  do.  But  as  to  keeping  a 
store,  you  see,  I've  been  so  accustomed  to  an 
open-air  life,  I  don't  think  it  would  suit  me. 
Besides,  a  big  man  like  me  ought  to  do  some- 
thing else  than  sell  trousers!  As  to  gold- 
mining,  I've  done  that,  and  been  lucky  once, 
which,  in  such  a  gambling  game,  is  against 
me.  And  hunting  or  trapping — well,  there's 
nothing  great  in  that.  I  think  I  should  pre- 
fer cattle-raising,  if  I  could  do  it.  I  was 
brought  up  on  a  farm  in  England,  and  why 
shouldn't  I  die  on  one  in  British  Columbia, 
or  "  (and  I  looked  at  Elsie)  "  in  Australia  ?  " 

"  Quite  right,  Tom,"  said  Fanny,  laughing. 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


167 


for  she  was  too  cute  to  miss  seeing  what  I 
meant. 

Mr.  Fleming  looked  at  me  approvingly. 

"  You'll  die  w  orth  a  lot  yet,  Tom  Tice- 
hurst.  I  like  your  spirit.  I  was  just  the 
same  once.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what.  Did 
you  ever  see  George  Nettlebury  at  the 
Forks  ? " 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  not  that  I  know  of.'' 

"  I  dare  say  you  have,"  said  he ;  "  he's 
mostly  drunk;  and  Indian  Alice,  who  is 
always  with  him,  usuall}^  has  a  black  eye,  as 
a  gentle  reminder  that  she  belongs  to  an 
inferior  race,  if  she  is  his  wife.  Now,  he 
lives  about  two  miles  from  here,  over 
yonder  "  (he  pointed  over  the  valley).  "  He 
has  a  house — a  very  dirty  one  now,  it  is  true ; 
a  stable,  and  a  piece  of  meadow,  fenced  in, 
where  he  could  raise  good  hay  if  he  would 
mend  the  fence  and  keep  other  folks'  cattle 
out.  He  told  me  the  other  day  that  he  was 
sick  to  death  of  this  place,  and  he  wants  just 


! 


168 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


'jjrrs 


enough  to  go  East  with,  and  retura  to  his 
old  trade  of  shipbuilding.  He  says  he  will 
take  $300  for  the  whole  place,  with 
what  is  on  it.  That  don't  amount  to  much 
— two  cows,  one  old  steer,  and  a  cayuse  he 
rides  round  on.  If  you  like,  we'll  go  over 
and  see  him.  You  can  buy  it,  and  buy  some 
more  cattle,  and  if  you  have  more  next 
winter  than  you  can  feed,  I'll  let  you  have 
the  hay  cheap.     What  do  you  say  ? " 

My  heart  leapt  up,  but  I  pretended  I 
wanted  time  to  think  about  it. 

"Then  let's  ride  over  now,  and  you  can 
look  at  the  place,"  said  he,  rising. 

Ilarmer  would  not  come,  so  I  left  him 
with  the  sisters.  When  we  returned  I  was 
the  owner  of  the  house,  stable,  two  cows, 
etc.,  and  George  Nettlebury  was  fighting 
with  Indian  Alice,  to  whom  he  had  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  going  East  at  once, 
and  without  her. 

"  I'm  tired  of  this  life ;  it's  quite  disgust- 


1 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


169 


ing ! "  said  George,  as  we  departed.  "  I'm 
glad  you  came,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  for  I'm  oft'  too 
quick." 

As  we  rode  back  to  Thomson  Forks,  Har- 
iner  asked  pathetically  w  hat  he  was  to  do. 

"  We  must  see,  Jack,"  I  auswered  kindly. 
"  We'll  get  you  something  in  town." 

"I'd  rather  be  with  you,"  he  answered 
dolorously. 

"  Well,  you  can't  yet,  that's  certain,"  said  I. 
"  I  can't  att'ord  to  pay  you  \vages,  when  there 
will  be  no  more  than  I  can  get  through 
myself ;  when  there  is,  I'll  let  you  know. 
In  the  meantime  you  must  make  money. 
Jack.  There's  a  sawmill  in  town.  I  know 
the  man  that  runs  it — Bill  Custer,  and  I'll 
go  and  see  him  for  you."  v 

Jack  sighed,  and  we  rode  on  in  silence 
until  we  reached  the  Forks. 

After  we  had  had  supper  Jack  and  I  were 
standing  in  the  barroom,  not  near  the  stove, 
which  was  surrounded  by  a  small  crowd  of 


I  (I 


: 


! 


170 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


h 


men,  who  smoked  and  chewed  and  cnattered, 
but  close  hv  the  door  for  the  sake  of  the 
fresher  air,  when  we  sav^^  Siwash  Jim  ride 
up.  After  tying  his  horse  to  the  rail  in 
front  of  the  house,  to  which  half  a  dozen 
other  animals  in  vaiiou"^  stages  of  equine 
desj^.ondency  or  irritation  were  already 
attached,  he  swaggered  into  the  bar, 
brushing  against  me  rather  rudely  as  he 
did  so.  Harmer's  e\e^  flashed  with  in  die'- 
nation,  as  if  it  was  he  v/ho  had  been  insulted. 
But  I  am  a  very  peaceable  man,  and  don't 
•always  fight  at  the  first  charce.  Besides, 
being  so  much  bigger  than  Jim,  I  could^  I 
considered,  afford  to  take  I'o  notice  of  what 
an  ii'i-conditioned  little  ruffian  like  that  did 
when  he  ^/iis  probably  drunk.  Presently 
.lack  spoke  to  me. 

"  That  beastly  fellow  keeps  looking  at  you, 
Mr.  Ticehurst,  as  if  he  would  like  to  cut 
your  throat.  What's  vrong  with  him  ?  Is 
he  jealous  of  you,  do  you  think  ? " 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


171 


It  was  almost  blasphemy  to  dream  of  such 
a  thing,  and  I  looked  at  Mr.  John  Harmer 
so  sternly  that  he  apologized ;  yet  I  believe 
it  must  to  some  extent  have  been  that  which 
caused  the  trouble  that  ensued  almost 
directly,  and  added  aftei'ward  to  the  danger 
in  which  I  already  stood.  I  turned  round 
and  looked  at  Jim,  who  returned  my  glance 
furiously.  He  ordered  another  drink,  and 
then  another.  It  seemed  as  if  he  was 
desirous  of  making  himself  drunk.  Presently 
Dave,  who  was,  as  usual,  behind  the  bar, 
spoke  to  him. 

"  Going  back  to  the  ranch  to-night,  Jim  ? " 
Jim  struck  the  bar  hard  with  his  llst= 
"  No,  I'm  not !     Never,  unless  I  go  to  set 
the  damned  place  on  fire  ! " 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  ? "''  asked  Dave, 
smiling,  wiiile  Harmer  and  I  pricked  up  our 
ears. 

"  Ah !  I  had  some  trouble  with  old  Fleminc: 
j.ist   now,"   said   Jim,   in  a  hoarse  voice   of 


(1 


ni 


172  TJIE   MATE   OF   THE   VANCOUVEK. 


'ill 
»i,, 


'( 


passion.  "  He's  like  the  rest,  wants  too  niuch  , 
the  more  one  does,  the  more  one  may  do. 

He's  a  dirty  coyote,  and   hin  gjads  am- " 

And  the  gentle-minded  Jim  userf  ;jn  epithet 
which  made  both  our  ears  tingle. 

Jack  made  a  spring,  but  I  caught  5iim  by 
the  shoulder  and  sent  him  spinning  back,  and 
walked  up  alongside  the  man.  T  saw  my 
own  face  in  the  glass  at  the  back  of  the  bar ; 
it  was  very  white,  and  I  could  hardly  recog- 
nize it. 

"  Mind  what  you  say,  }  ou  infernal  ruffian ! " 
I  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  or  Fll  break  your  neck 
for  you !  Don't  you  dare  to  speak  about 
ladies,  you  dog,  or  I'll  strangle  you  ! "  He 
sprang  back  like  lightning.  If  he  had  had  a 
six-shooter  on  him  I  think  my  story  would 
have  ended  here,  for  I  had  none  ni}  self.  But 
Jim  had  no  weapon.  Yet  he  was  no  coward, 
and  did  not  "  take  water,"  or  "  back  down," 
as  they  say  there.  He  steadied  himself  one 
moment,  and  then  threw  the  water-bottl^  at 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


173 


•n 


ne 


at 


me  with  all  his  force.  Though  I  ducked, 
I  did  not  quite  escape  it,  for  the  handle 
caught  me  on  the  forehead  near  the  hair,  and, 
in  breaking,  cut  a  gpsh  which  sent  the  blood 
down  into  my  left  eye.  But  I  caught  hold 
of  him  before  he  could  do  anything  else. 
In  a  moment  the  room  was  in  an  uproar; 
ftr»me  of  the  men  climbed  on  to  the  tables 
in  order  to  get  a  view,  while  those  outside 
croAvded  to  tlie  door.  They  roared,  "  Leave 
'em  'i  .e!"  when  Dave  attempted  to 
approach,  and  one  big  fellow  caught  hold 
of  Harmer  and  held  him,  s.iying  at  the  same 
time,  as  Jack  told  me  afterward,  "  You  stay 
right  here,  sonny,  and  see  'em  fight.  Mebbe 
you'll  larn  something  !  " 

I  found  Jim  a  much  tougher  customer  than 
I  should  have  imaojined,  altlioui^h  I  mit^ht 
have  handled  him  more  easily  if  J  had  not 
been  for  tb^^  time  blind  in  one  eye.  Hut  he 
was  like  a  ))unch  of  musch' ;  his  arms,  though 
slender,  were  as  tough  and  hard  as  his  stock - 


;l!  I 


II, 


174 


THE   MATE   OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


whip  handle,  and  his  quickness  was  surprising. 
He  struck  me  once  or  twice  as  we  grappled, 
and  then  we  fell,  rolling  over  and  over,  and 
scattering  the  onlookers,  as  we  went,  until  we 
came  against  the  legs  of  the  table,  which  gave 
way  and  sent  three  men  to  the  floor  with  a 
shock  that  shook  the  house.    Finally,  Jim  got 
his  hand  in  my  hair  and  tried  to  gouge  out 
my  eyes.  Fortunately,  it  was  not  long  enough 
for  him  to  get  a  good  hold,  but  when  I  felt 
his    thumbs    feeling    for    my   eyes,   all  the 
strength  and  rage  I  ever  had  seeiaed  to  come 
to  me,  and  I  rose  suddenly  with  him  clinging 
to  me.     For  a  moment  we  swayed  about,  and 
then  I  caught  his  throat,  pushed  him  at  arm's 
length  from  me,  and,   catching  Tiold.  of   his 
belt,  I  threvv  him  right  over  my  head.     I  was 
standing  with  my  back  to  the  door,  and  he 
went  through   it,  fell  on   the  sidewalk,  and 
rolled    oif    into    the    road,    ^vllere    he    lay 
insensible. 

"  Very    good  ! "    said    Dave ;   "  very  well 


*.,• 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


175 


lie 
nd 


^ell 


done  indeed !  Pick  him  up,  some  of  you 
fellows,  and  see  if  he's  dead.  The  son  of  a 
gun,  I'll  make  him  pay  for  that  bottle, 
and  for  the  table !  Come,  have  a  drink, 
Mr.  Ticehurst.     You  look  rather  warm." 

I  should  think  I'  did,  besides  being 
smothered  with  blood  and  dust.  I  was  glad 
to  accept  his  invitation. 

"  Is  he  dead  ? "  I  asked  of  Harmer,  who 
came  in  just  then. 

"  Not  he, '  said  Jack,  "  he's  coming  to 
already,  but  I  guess  he'll  fight  no  more  for  a 
few  days.  That  must  have  been  a  sickener. 
By  Jove  !  how  strong  you  must  be — he  went 
out  of  the  door  like  a  st^ne  out  I'f  a  sling. 
Lucky  he  didn't  hit  the  post."  And  Harmer 
chuckled  loudly,  and  then  went  oif  with  me 
to  wash  away  the  blood,  and  bandage  the 
cut  in  my  forehead. 

When  I  left  town  in  the  morning  I  heard 
that  Jim  was  still  in  bed  and  likely  to  stay 
there  for  some  time.     And  Harmer,  who  was 


!'!J 


II  :il 


176 


THE   MATE   OF   THE   VANCOUVER. 


Is 


going  t(  work  with  BHl  Custer,  promised  to 
Irit  me  know  if  lie  heard  anything  which  was 
of  importance  to  me. 

On  my  way  out  to  my  new  property  I  met 
its  late  owner  and  his  Indian  wife  in  their 
I'icketty  wagon,  drawn  by  the  horse  I  had  not 
thought  worth  buying.  Nettlebury  was 
more  than  half  drunk,  although  it  w^as  early 
in  the  morning,  and  when  he  saw  me  coming 
he  rose  up,  waved  his  hand  to  me,  bellowed, 
"  I'm  a-goin'  East,  I  am  !  "  and,  falling  over 
the  seat  backward,  disappeared  from  view. 
Alice  reached  out  her  hand  and  helped 
her  husband  to  regain  his  former  position. 
I  came  up  alongside  and  reined  in  my 
horse. 

Tie  looked  at  me. 

"  Been  fightin'  a'ready,  hev  you ;  or  did  you 
get  chucked  off?  More  likely  you  got 
chucked — it  takes  an  American  to  ride  these 
cay  uses  ! "  8aid  he  half  scornfully. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  wasn't   chucked,   and  I 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


177 


have    been    fighting.     Did    you    hear    why 
Si  wash  Jim  left  Fleming  ? " 

"No,  not  eA.ictly,"  he  returned;  "but  he 
was  sassy  with  Miss  Elsie,  and — oh,  I  dunno 
— but  you  hev  been  lightin',  eh  ?  Did  you 
lick  him — and  who  was  it  ? " 

"  The  man  himself,  Mr.  Nettlebury,"  said 
I  —  "Jim;  and  I  reckon  I  did  whip 
him." 

He  laughed. 

"Good  on  you,  old  man!  He's  been 
wanting  it  this  long  while  past;  but  look 
out  he  don't  put  a  knife  in  your  ribs.  Now 
then,"  said  he  ferociously,  turning  to  his  wife, 
"  why  don't  you  drive  on  ?  Here,  catch 
hold  !  "  and  giving  her  the  reins,  he  lifted  his 
hand  to  strike  her.  But  just  then  the  old 
horse  started  up,  he  fell  over  the  seat  again, 
and  lay  there  on  a  pile  of  sacking.  I  liardly 
thought  he  Avould  get  East  with  his  znoney, 
and  I  was  right,  for  I  hired  him  to  work  for 


il^ 


me  soon 


after 


war 


*;>  '( 


178 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


When  I  came  to  the  Flemings'  there  was 
no  one  about  but  the  old  man. 

"  Busy !  "  said  he,  "you  may  bet  I'm  busy. 
I  sent  that  black  ruffian  oft'  yesterday,  and 
I'v^e  got  no  one  to  help  me.  What's  the 
matter  with  your  head  ?  " 

When  I  told  him,  he  laughed  heartily,  and 
then  shook  my  hand. 

"  I'm  glad  you  thrashed  him,  Tom,"  said 
he  ;  "  I'd  have  done  it  myself  yesterday  if  I 
had  been  ten  years  younger.  When  Elsie 
wanted  him  to  get  some  water,  he  growled 
and  said  all  klootchmen,  as  he  calls  '  em — 
women,  you  know — ^vere  alike,  Indian  or 
white,  and  no  good.  I  told  him  to  get  out. 
Is  he  badly  hurt  ?  " 

"  Not  very,"  I  answered. 

"  I  hoped  he  was,"  said  the  old  man.  "  It's 
a  pity  you  didn't  break  his  neck  !  I  would 
as  soon  trust  a  black  snake  !  Ai'e  you  going 
over  yonder  ? " 

"  I   guess   so,"  I   answered  ;  "  I   must  get 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


179 


the  place  cleaned  up  a  bit — It's  like  a  pigsty, 
or  what  they  call  a  hog-pen  in  this  country." 

"  Well,  I  guess  it  is,"  he  replied ;  "  but 
come  over  in  the  evening,  if  you  like." 

I  thanked  him  and  rode  ofP,  happy  in  one 
thing  at  least — I  was  near  Elsie.  I  felt  as  if 
Harmer's  suspicions  about  Mat  were  a  mere 
chimera,  and  that  the  lad  in  some  excitement 
had  mistaken  the  dark  face  of  some  harmless 
Indian  for  that  of  the  revengeful  Malay. 
And  as  to  Siwash  Jim,  why,  I  shrugged  my 
shoulders;  I  did  not  suppose  he  was  so 
murderously  inclined  as  Nettlebury  imagined. 
It  would  be  hard  lines  on  me  to  have  two 
men  so  ill  disposed  toward  me,  through 
no  fault  of  my  own,  as  to  wish  to  kill  me. 

I  went  back  to  the  Flemings'  after  a  hard 
day's  work,  in  which  I  burnt,  or  otherwise 
disposed  of,  an  almost  unparalleled  collection 
of  rubbish,  including  old  crockery  and 
bottles,  dirty  shirts  and  worn-out  boots, 
which   had  been   accumulating  indoors  and 


180- 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


":  i-m 


Hi  ■  m 


out  for  some  ten  years.  After  being  nearly 
smotlierecl,  I  was  glad  to  go  down  to  the 
creek  and  take  a  bath  in  the  clear,  cold  water 
which  ran  into  the  main  watercourse  issuing, 
some  two  miles  away,  from  the  Black  Canon 
at  the  back  of  the  valley,  concerning  which 
Fleming  had  once  spoken  to  me.  That 
evening  at  his  ranch  was  the  pleasantest  I 
ever  spent  in  my  life  up  to  that  time,  in  spite 
of  the  black  cloud  which  hung  over  me,  for 
Fanny  was  as  bright  and  happy  as  a  bird, 
while  Elsie,  who  seemed  to  have  come  to  her 
senses,  spoke  almost  freely,  displaying  no 
more  disinclination  to  me,  even  apparently, 
than  might  naturally  be  set  down  to  her 
instinctive  modesty,  and  her  knowledge  that 
I  was  courting  her,  and  desired  to  b^ 
received  as  her  lover. 

I  spoke  to  her  late  that  evening  when 
Fleming  went  out  to  throw  down  the  night's 
hay  to  his  horses.  For  Fanny  vanished 
discreetly  at  the  same  moment,  and  continued 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


181 


to  make  just  enough  noise  in  the  kitchen  to 
assure  us  she  was  there,  while  it  was  not 
sufficient  to  drown  even  the  softest 
conversation.  Good  girl  she  was,  and  is — I 
love  her  yet,  though — well,  perhaps  I  had 
better  leave  that  unsaid  at  present. 

"Elsie,"  I  said,  when  we  were  alone,  "do 
you  remember  what  I  said  when  we  parted 
on  the  steamer  ?  " 

She  cast  her  eyes  down,  but  did  not  an- 
swer. 

"  I  think  you  do,  Elsie,"  I  went  on  ;  "I  said 
I  should  never  forget.  Do  you  think  I  have  ? 
Don't  you  know  why  I  left  my  sliip,  why  I 
came  to  this  country,  why  I  went  mining,  and 
why  I  have  worked  so  hard  and  patiently  for 
long,  long  months  without  seeing  you  ?  An- 
swer me  ;  do  you  know  why  ? " 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  lifted  up  her  blue 
eyes,  dropped  them  at  the  sight  of  the  passion 
in  mine,  and  said  geo  ly,  "I  suppose  so,  Mr. 
Ticehurst." 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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140 


12.0 


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1.4      1.6 

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pm 


v. 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  9TREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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m. 


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182 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVEB. 


"  Yes,  you  know,  Elsie ;  it  was  that  I 
might  be  near  you,  that  I  might  get  rich 
enough  to  be  able  to  claim  you.  How  for- 
tunate I  have  been  in  that !  But  am  I  for- 
tunate in  other  things,  too,  Elsie  ?  Will  you 
answer  me  that,  Elsie  ? " 

I  approached  her,  but  she  held  up  her 
hand. 

"  Stay,  Mr.  Ticehurst ! — if  I  must  speak. 
I  may  have  judged  you  wrongly,  but  I  am 
not  wholly  sure  that  I  have.  If  I  have  not, 
I  should  only  be  preparing  misery  for  myself 
and  for  you,  if  I  answered  your  questions  as 
you  would  have  me.  I  want  time,  and  I  must 
have  it,  or  some  other  assurance ;  for  how  can 
I  wholly  trust  you  when  you  will  not  speak 
as  you  might  do  ? " 

Ah !  how  could  I  ?  But  this  was 
far  better  than  I  had  expected  —  far 
better. 

"  Elsie,"  I  answered 


quietly. 


ready 


to  give  you  time,  all  the  time  you  need  to 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


183 


prove  me,  and  my  love  for  you,  though  there 
is  no  need.  My  heart  is  yours,  and  yours 
only,  ever  from  the  time  I  saw  you.  I  have 
never  even  wavered  in  my  faith  and  hope. 
But  I  do  not  care  so  long  as  I  may  be  near 
you — so  long  as  I  may  see  you  sometimes, 
and  speak  to  you.  For  without  you  I  shall 
be  wretched,  and  would  be  glad  even  if  that 
wretched  Malay  were  to  kill  me,  as  he  threat- 
ened." ■:  > 

I  thought  I  was  cunning  to  bring  in  Mat- 
thias, and  indeed  she  lifted  her  eyes  then. 
But  she  showed  no  signs  of  fear  for  me. 
Perhaps  she  looked  at  me,  saying  to  herself 
there  was  no  need  of  such  a  strong  man  being 
afraid  of  such  a  visionary  danger.  She  spoke 
after  a  little  silence. 

"Then  let  it  be  so,  Mr.  Ticehurst.  If 
what  you  say  be  true,  there  at  least  is  nothi  ag 
for  you  to  fear." 

She  looked  at  me  straight  then  with  her 
glorious  blue  eyes,  and  I  would  have  given 


184 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


worlds  to  catch  her  in  my  arms  and  press  her 
to  my  heart.     She  went  on : 

"  A  ;id  if  you  never  give  me  cause,  why — " 
She  was  silent,  but  held  out  her  hand. 

I  took  it,  pressed  it,  and  would  have  raised 
it  to  my  lips,  only  she  drew  it  gently  away. 
But  I  went  to  rest  happy  that  night.  Give 
her  cause  ! — indeed,  what  cause  could  I  give 
her  ?  That  is  what  I  asked  myself,  without 
knowing  what  was  coming,  without  feeling 
my  ignorance,  my  blindness,  and  my  helpless- 
ness in  the  strange  web  of  fate  and  fated 
crime  which  was  being  woven  around  me — 
without  being  conscious,  as  an  animal  is  in 
the  prairie,  of  that  storm,  so  ready  to  burst 
on  my  head,  whose  firet  faint  clouds  had  risen 
on  the  horizon  of  my  life,  even  before  I  had 
seen  her,  in  the  very  horn*  that  I  had  joined 
the  Vancouver  under  my  own  brother's  com- 
mand. I  went  to  sleep,  wondering  vaguely 
what  had  become  of  him.  But  we  are  blind, 
all  of  us,  and  see  nothing  until  the  curtain 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


185 


rises  on  act  after  act ;  being  ignorant  still, 
whether  the  end  shall  be  sweet  or  bitter  to 
us,  whether  it  shall  justify  our  smiles  in 
happiness,  oi  our  tears  in  some  bitter 
tragedy. 


For  two  days  I  worked  in  ^nd  about  my 
house,  putting  things  in  some  order,  and  on 
the  third  I  rode  over  to  the  Flemings'  early 
in  the  morning,  as  it  had  been  arranged  that 
I  was  to  go  out  with  Mr.  Fleming  to  look 
after  some  cattle  of  his,  which  a  neighbor 
had  complained  of.  I  never  felt  in  better 
spirits  than  when  I  rode  over  the  short  two 
miles  which  separated  us,  for  the  morning 
was  calm  and  bright,  with  a  touch  of  that 
glorious  freshness  known  only  among  moun- 
tains or  on  high  plateaus  lifted  up  from  the 
common  level  of  the  under  world.  I  even 
sang  softly  to  myself,  for  the  black  cloud  of 
doubt,  which  but  a  few  days  ago  had 
obscured  all  my  light,  was  driven  away  by  a 


186 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


new  dawning  of  hope,  and  I  was  content  and 
v/ithout  fear.  I  shouted  cheerfully  for 
Fleming  as  I  rode  up,  and  he  came  to  the 
door  with  his  whip  over  his  ann,  followed  by 
the  tw^o  girls.  I  alighted,  and  shook  hands 
all  round. 

"Then  you  are  ready,  Mr.  Fleming?"  I 
asked. 

"  When  I  have  put  the  saddle  on  the  black 
horse,"  he  replied,  as  he  went  toward  the 
stable,  leaving  me  standing  there,  for  I  was 
little  inclined  to  offer  to  assist  him  while 
Elsie  remained  outside  the  house.  Fanny 
was  quite  as  mischievous  as  ever,  and 
whether  her  sister  had  told  her  anything  of 
what  had  passed  between  us  two  days  before 
or  not,  she  was  evidently  conscious  that  the 
relations  between  Elsie  and  myself  had 
somehow  altered  for  the  better. 

''How  do  you  find  yourself  these  days, 
Tom?"  she  asked,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in 
her  eye. 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


187 


"  Very  well,  Fanny,"  I  answered.  "  Thanks 
for  your  inquiry." 

"  Does  the  climate  suit  you,  then  ?  Or  is 
it  the  surroundings  ? " 

"Both,  my  dear  girl,  as  long  as  the  sun 
shines  on  us ! "  I  replied,  laughing,  while 
Elsie  turned  away  with  a  smile. 

Fanny  almost  winked  at  me,  and  then 
looked  up  the  road  toward  Thomson  Forks, 
which  ran  close  by  the  ranch  and  led  toward 
an  Indian  settlement  on  the  Lake  about  ten 
miles  away. 

"  There's  someone  coming,"  she  said,  "  and 
he's  in  a  hurry.  Isn't  he  galloping,  Mr.  Tice- 
hurst?" 

I  looked  up  the  road  and  saw  somebody 
who  certainly  was  coming  down  the  long 
slope  from  the  crest  of  the  hill  with  more 
than  reasonable  rapidity.  I  looked,  and  then 
turned  away  carelessly.  What  was  the  horse- 
man to  me  ?  I  leant  against  the  post  of  the 
veranda,  which  some  former  occupant  of  the 


188 


THE    MATE    OF    THE    VANCOUVER. 


I    ! 


house  had  ornamented  by  whittling  with  his 
knife,  until  it  was  almost  too  thin  to  do  its 
duty,  and  began  to  speak  to  Fanny  again, 
when  I  saw  her  blush  and  start. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  she  said,  "  it's  Mr. 
Harmer! " 

Then  the  hoiTeman  was  something  to  me, 
after  all.  For  what  but  some  urgent  need 
would  biing  Jack,  who  was  entirely  ignorant 
of  horses  and  riding,  at  that  breakneck  gallop 
over  the  mountain  road  ?  My  carelessness 
went  suddenly,  and  I  felt  my  heart  begin  to 
beat  with  unaccustomed  violence.  I  turned 
pale,  I  know,  as  I  watched  him  coming 
nearer.  I  was  quite  unconscious  that  Elsie 
had  rejoined  her  sister,  and  stood  behind 
me. 

Harmer  came  closer  and  closer,  and  when 
he  saw  us  waved  his  hat.  In  a  moment  he 
WL3  at  the  gate,  while  I  stood  still  at  the 
house,  and  did  not  move  to  go  toward  him. 
He  alighted,  opened  the  gate,  and,  with  his 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


180 


bridle  over  his  arm,  came  up  to  us.  He  said 
good-morning  to  the  girls  hurriedly,  and 
turned  to  me. 

"You  must  come  to  Thomson  Forks 
directly,  Mr.  Ticehurst ! "  he  said,  gasp- 
ing, wiping  his  forehead  with  his  sleeve. 
"  Something's  happened,  I  don't  know 
what,  and  I  can't  tell ;  but  she  wants  to  see 
you  at  once,  and  sent  me  off  to  fetch  you — 
and  so  I  came,  and,  oh !  how  sore  I  am,"  and 
he  wriggled  suggestively,  and  in  a  way  that 
would  have  been  comic  under  other  circum- 
stances. 

I  caught  hold  of  his  arm. 

"  What  do  you  mean,"  I  roared,  "  you 
young  fool?  What's  happened,  and  who 
wants  to  see  me  ?    Who's  ake  f  " 

He  looked  up  in  astonishment. 

"Why,  didn't  I  say  Mrs.  Ticehurst,  of 
coarse  ? " 

I  let  him  go  and  fell  against  the  post, 
nu^ng  it  crack  as  I  did  so,    J  looked  ftt 


190 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANOOUVEIU 


I 


Elsie,  and  she  was  white  and  stem.  But  sbe 
did  not  avoid  my  eye. 

"Well,  what  is  it — what^s  happened?"  I 
said  at  last. 

"I  don't  know,  I  tell  you,  sir,"  said  he 
almost  piteously ;  "all  I  know  is  that  I  was 
sent  for  to  the  sawmill  by  Dave,  and  when  I 
came  I  saw  Mrs.  Ticehurst ;  and  she^s  dressed 
in  black,  sir,  and  she  looked  dreadfully  bad, 
and  she  just  shook  hands  with  me,  and  told 
me  to  fetch  you  at  once.  And  when  I  asked 
what  for,  she  just  stamped,  sir,  and  told  me 
to  go.     And  so  I  came,  and  that's  all ! " 

Surely  it  was  enough.  Much  as  I  liked 
her,  I  would  rather  have  met  Mat  or  the  very 
devil  in  the  way  than  had  this  happen  now, 
when  things  were  going  so  well  with  me. 
And  in  black  ? — good  God  !  had  anything 
happened  to  my  brother  ?  I  turned  white,  I 
know,  and  almost  fell. 

"You  had  better  go  at  once,  Tom," 
said  Fanny,  who  held  me  by  the  arm.    I 


.■J 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


191 


n 


I 


turned)  I  hardly  know  why,  to  her  sister. 
Her  face  was  very  pale,  but  her  eyes  glit- 
tered, and  she  looked  like  marble.  I  know 
my  own  ai^ked  hera  a  question,  but  I  got  no 
response.  I  turned  away  toward  my  horse, 
and  then  she  spoke. 

"  Mr.  Ticehurst,  let  me  speak  to  you  one 
moment.     Fanny,  go  and  talk  to  Mr.  Hai'mer." 

And  Fanny  and  I  both  obeyed  her  like 
children. 

She  looked  at  me  straight. 

"  How  could  I  prove  you,  Mr.  Ticehurst," 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  was  what  I  asked 
the  other  night.  Now  the  means  are  in  my 
power.     What  are  you  going  to  do  ? " 

"  I  am  going  to  the  Forks,"  I  said,  in  be- 
wilderment. Her  eyes  flashed,  and  she 
looked  at  me  scornfully. 

"Then  go,  but  don't  ever  speak  to  me 
again  I    Go ! " 

And  she  turned  away.     I  caught  her  arm. 

"  Don't  be  unjust,  Elsie  ! — don't  be  craelly 


1 


102 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


II  I' 


unjust  I "  I  cried.  What  a  fool  I  was ;  I 
knew  she  loved  me,  and  yet  I  asked  her 
not  to  be  cruel  and  unjust.  Can  a  woman 
or  a  man  in  love  be  anything  else  ? 

"  How  can  I  stay  aWay  ? "  I  asked  pas- 
sionately, "when  my  brother's  wife  sends 
for  me?  And  she  is  in  black — poor  Will 
must  be  dead ! " 

If  he  was  dead,  then  Helen  was  free. 
I  saw  that  and  so  did  Elsie,  and  it  hardened 
her  more  than  ever,  for  she  did  not  answer. 

"  Look  then,  Elsie,  I  am  going,  and  you  say 
I  shall  not  speak  to  you  again.  You  are  cruel, 
very  cruel — but  I  love  you !  And  you  shall 
speak  to  me — aye,  and  one  day  ask  my  pardon 
for  doubting  me.  But  even  for  you  I  cannot 
refuse  this  request  of  my  own  sister-in-law — 
who  is  ill,  alone,  in  sorrow  and  trouble,  in  a 
strange  land.    For  the  present,  good-by ! " 

I  turned  away,  took  my  horse  from  the 
fence,  and  rode  off  rapidly,  without  thinking 
pf  Harmer,  or  of  Fleming,  who  w^  stapding 


■'^'wm/ff^/ 


LOVE    AND    HATS. 


193 


in  amazement  at  his  stable,  as  I  saw  when  I 
opened  the  swing-gate.  And  if  Harmer  had 
come  up  at  a  gallop,  I  went  at  one,  until  my 
horse  was  covered  with  sweat,  and  the  foam, 
flying  from  his  champed  bit,  hung  about  my 
knees  like  sea-foam  that  did  not  easily  melt. 
In  half  an  hour  I  was  at  Conlan's  door,  auil 
was  received  by  Dave.  In  two  minutes  I 
stood  in  Helen's  presence. 

When  I  saw  her  last  she  had  that  rich  r^id 
complexion  which  showed  the  pure  color  of 
the  blood  through  a  delicate  skin ;  her  eyes 
were  piercing  and  perhaps  a  little  hard,  and 
her  figure  was  full  and  beautiful.  She  had 
always  rejoiced,  too,  in  bright  colors,  such  as 
an  Oriental  might  have  chosen,  and  their 
richness  had  suited  her  striking  appearance. 
But  now  she  was  woefully  altered,  and  I 
barely  knew  her.  The  color  had  deserted 
her  cheeks,  which  were  wan  and  hollow; 
her  eyes  were  sunken  and  ringed  with  dark 
circles,  and  her  bust  had  fallen  in  until  siie 


194 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


l'\ 


I  I 


looked  like  the  ghosc  of  her  former  self,  a 
ghost  that  was  but  a  mere  vague  memory 
of  her  whom  I  had  first  known  in  Mel- 
bourne. 

Her  dress,  too,  was  black,  which  I  knew 
she  hated,  and  in  which  she  looked  even  less 
like  herself.  Her  voice,  when  she  spoke,  no 
longer  rang  out  with  assurance,  but  faltered 
ever  and  again  with  the  tears  that  rose  to  her 
eyes  and  checked  her  utterance. 

I  took  her  hand,  full  of  pity  for  her,  and 
dread  of  what  she  had  to  tell  me,  for  it  must 
be  something  dreadful  which  had  changed 
her  so  much  and  brought  her  so  far. 

"What  is  it,  Helen?"  I  said,  in  a  low 
voice.  "    : 

"  What  did  I  come  for,  you  mean,  Tom  ? " 
she  asked,  though  desiring  no  answer.  "I 
came  for  your  sake — and  not  for  Will's.  I 
thought  you  might  never  get  a  letter,  and  I 
wanted  to  see  you  once  again.  Ah !  how 
much  I   desired    that.      Tom,   you    are    in 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


id5 


low 


danger!"  she  spoke  that  suddenly — "in 
danger  every  moment !  For  that  man  who 
threatened  your  life " 

T  nodded,  sucking  my  dry  lips,  for  I  knew 
what  she  meant,  and  I  was  only  afraid  of 
what  else  she  had  to  tell  me. 

"  That  man  has  escaped,  and  has  not  been 
caught.  O  Tom,  be  careful — be  careful  I 
If  you  were  to  die,  too " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Helen  ? "  I  asked, 
though  I  knew  full  well  what  she  meant. 
She  looked  at  me. 

"  Can't  you  think  ?  Yes,  you  can  perhaps 
partly ;  but  not  all—not  all  the  horror  of  it. 
Tom,  Will  is  dead  !  And  not  only  that,  but 
he  was  murdered  in  San  Francisco  !  " 

I  staggered,  and  sat  down  staring  at  her. 
She  went  on  in  a  curiously  constrained 
voice.  .    '  ^ 

"  Yes  ;  the  v^ry  first  night  we  came  ashore, 
and  in  our  hotel !  He  was  intoxicated,  and 
came  in  late,  and  I  wouldn't  have  him  in  my 


m 


196 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


Ii;! 


\    I 


room.  I  made  them  put  him  in  the  next,  and 
I  heard  him  shouting  out  of  his  window  over 
the  veranda  soon  afterward,  and  then  I  fell 
asleep.  And  in  the  morning  I  found  him — I 
myself  found  him  dead  in  bed,  struck  right 
through  with  a  stab  in  the  heart.  And  he 
was  robbed,  too.  Tom,  it  nearly  killed  me, 
it  was  so  horrible — oh,  it  was  horrible  !  I 
didn't  know  v^hat  to  do.  I  was  going  to 
send  for  you,  and  then  I  read  in  the  paper 
about  Mat  having  escaped  two  days  before, 
so  I  came  away  at  once." 

She  ceased  and  sobbed  violently;  and  I 
kept  silence.  God  alone  knows  a^  hat  was  in 
my  heart,  and  how  it  came  there ;  but  for  a 
moment — yes,  and  for  more  than  that — I 
suspected  her,  his  wife,  of  my  brother's 
murder !  I  was  blind  enough,  I  suppose,  and 
so  was  she ;  but  then  so  many  times  in  life 
we  wonder  suddenly  at  our  want  of  sight 
when  the  tmth  comes  out.  I  remembered 
she  had  once  said  she  hated  him,  and  could 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


197 


kill  him.     And  besides,    she    loved  me.     I 

shivered  and  was  still  silent.     She  looked  up 

and  caught  my  eye,  which,  I  knew,  was  full 

of    doubt.     She  rose  up  suddenly,  came  to 

me,  fell  on  her  knees,  and  cried : 

"No,  no,  Tom— not  that!  For  God's 
sake,  don't  look  at  me  so  ! " 

And  I  knew  she  saw  my  very  heart,  and 

I  was  ashamed  of  myself.     I  lifted  her  up 

and  put  her  on  a  chair.     Heavens !  how  light 

she  was  to  what  she  had  been,  for  her  soul 
had  wasted  her  body  away  like  a  strong 
wind  fanning  a  fire.  ^, 

"  Poor  Will ! "  I  said  at  last,  and  then  I 
asked  if  she  had  remained  for  the  inquest. 
No,  she  had  not,  she  answered.  I  started  at 
her  reply.  If  I  could  think  what  I  had, 
what  might  others  not  do  ?  For  her  to 
disappear  like  that  after  the  murder  of  her 

* 

husband  was  enough  to  make  people  believe 
her  guilty  of  the  crime,  and  I  wondered  that 
she  had  not  been   prevented   from  leaving. 


ii^V' 


li'l 


mm 


198 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


But  on  questioning  her  further,  I  learnt  that 
the  police  suspected  a  certain  man  who  was 
a  frequenter  of  that  very  hotel;  and,  after 
the  manner  of  their  kind,  had  got  him  in 
custody,  and  were  devoting  all  their  atten- 
tion to  proving  him  guilty  of  the  crime, 
whether  there  were  prima  facie  proofs  or 
not.  Still,  it  seemed  bitter  that  poor  Will 
should  be  left  to  strangers  while  his  wife 
came  to  see  me  ;  and  though  she  had  done  it 
to  save  me,  as  she  thought,  yet,  after  all,  the 
danger  was  hardly  such  as  to  warrant  her 
acting  as  she  had  done.  But  I  was  not  the 
person  to  blame  her.  She  had  done  it,  poor 
woman,  because  she  yet  loved  me,  as  I  knew 
even  then.  But  I  saw,  too,  that  it  was  love 
without  hope ;  and  even  if  it  had  not  be  on, 
she  must  have  learnt  that  I  was  near  to 
Elsie ;  and  that  I  was  "  courting  old  Flem- 
ing's gal "  was  the  common  talk  whenever 
my  name  was  mentioned.  I  tried  to  con- 
vince myself  that  she  had  most  likely  ceased 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


199 


to  think  of  me,  and  I  preferred  to  believe  it 
was  only  the  daily  and  hourly  irritation  of 
poor  Will's  conduct  which  had  driven  her  to 
compare  me  with  him  to  his  disadv^antage. 
Well,  whatever  his  faults  were,  they  had  been 
bitterly  expiated  ;  as,  indeed,  such  faults  as 
his  usually  are.  It  does  not  require  statistics 
to  convince  anyone  who  has  seen  much  of 
the  world  that  most  of  the  trouble  in  it 
comes  diriectly  from  drink. 

I  was  in  a  strange  situation  as  I  sat  reflect- 
ing. I  suppose  strict  duty  required  me  to 
go  to  San  Francisco,  and  yet  AVill  would  be 
buried  before  I  could  get  there.  Then  what 
was  I  to  do  with  his  widow  ?  She  could  not 
stay  there,  I  could  not  allow  it,  nor  did  I 
think  she  desired  it.  Still  she  was  not  fit  to 
travel  in  her  state  of  nervous  exhaustion ;  in- 
deed, it  was  a  marvel  that  she  had  been  able 
to  come  so  far,  even  under  the  stimulus  of 
such  unwonted  excitement.  I  could  not  go 
away  with  her  even  for  a  part  of  the  return 


200 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I'! 

I  :i 


journey,  for  I  felt  Elsie  would  be  harder  and 
harder  to  manage  the  more  she  knew  I  saw 
of  Helen.  I  ended  by  coming  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  she  must  stay  at  the  Forks  for 
a  while,  and  that  I  must  go  back  and  try 
to  have  an  explanation  with  Elsie.  Helen 
bowed  her  head  in  acquiescence  when  I  told  • 
her  what  she  had  better  do,  for  the  poor 
vToman  was  utterly  broken  down,  and  ready 
to  lean  on  any  arm  that  was  offered  her ;  and 
she,  who  had  been  so  strong  in  her  own  will, 
was  at  last  content  to  be  advised  like  an  ^ 
obedient  child.  I  left  her  with  Mrs.  Conlan, 
to  whom  I  told  as  much  as  I  thought  desira- 
ble, and,  kissing  her  on  the  forehead,  I  took 
my  horse  and  rode  slowly  toward  home. 

As  I  left  the  town  I  saw  Siwash  Jim 
sitting  on  the  sidewalk,  and  he  looked  at 
me  with  a  face  full  of  diabolical  hatred. 
When  I  got  to  the  crest  of  the  hill  above  the 
town  I  turned  in  the  saddle,  and  saw  him 
still  gazing  after  me. 


.'!* 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


201 


/'' 


Wlien  half-way  home  I  met  Harmer,  who 
was  riding  even  slower  than  I,  and  sitting  as 
gingerly  in  the  saddle  as  if  he  were  very 
uncomfortable,  as  I  had  no  doubt  he  was. 

"Well,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  he  eagerly, 
when  we  came  near,  "  what  was  it  ? " 

I  told  him,  and  he  looked  puzzled. 

"  Well,"  he  remarked  at  last,  "  it  seems  to 
me  I  must  have  been  mistaken  after  all,  and 
that  I  didn't  see  Mat  when  I  thought  I  did. 
Let  me  see,  when  did  he  escape  ? " 

I  reckoned  it  up,  and  it  was  only  twelve 
days  ago,  for  Helen  had  taken  nine  days 
coming  from  San  Francisco,  according  to  what 
she  told  me. 

"  Then  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  have  seen 
him  in  New  Westminster,"  said  Harmer. 
"  But  it  is  very  strange  that  I  should  have 
imagined  I  did  see  him,  and  that  he  did 
escape  after  all."- 

Then  I  told  him  of  my  brother's  death. 

<*Why,     Mr.    Ticehurst,"    he    exclaimed, 


202 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


"Matthias  must  have  done  it  himself!  He 
must — don't  you  see  he  must  ? " 

The  thought  had  not  entered  into  my  head. 

"No,"  said  I;  "I  don't  see  it  at  all. 
There's  a  man  in  custody  for  it  now,  and  it  is 
hardly  likely  Mat  would  stay  in  San 
Francisco,  if  he  escaped,  for  two  days. 
Besides,  it  is  even  less  likely  that  he  would 
fall  across  my  brother  the  very  first  evening 
he  came  ashore."  , 

Harmer  shook  his  head  obstinately.  • 

"We  shall  see,  sir — we  shall  see.  You 
know  he  didn't  like  Captain  Ticehurst  much 
better  than  you.  Then,  you  say  he  was 
robbed  of  his  papers.  Was  your  address 
among  them,  do  you  think  ? "        ^     i    ^' 

I  started,  for  Jack's  suspicion  seemed 
possible  i.  Iter  all.  The  thing  looked  more 
likely  than  it  had  done  at  first  sight.  And 
yet  it  was  only  my  cowardice  that  made  me 
think  so.  I  shook  my  head,  but  answered 
"  yes  "  to  his  question. 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


203 


"Then  pray,  Mr.  Ticehurst,  be  careful," 
said  Jack  earnestly,  "  and  carry  your  revolver 
always.  Besides,  that  fellow  Jim  is  about 
again.  You  hardly  hurt  him  at  all ;  he  must 
be  made  of  iron,  and  I  heard  last  night  he 
threatened  to  have  your  life." 

"Threatened  men  live  long,  Jack,"  said 
I.  "  I  am  not  scared  of  him.  That's  only 
talk  and  blow.  I  don't  care  much  if  Mat 
doesn't  get  on  my  track.  He  would  be 
dangerous.  Did  you  see  Miss  Fleming 
before  you  left?"  I  said,  turning  the 
conversation. 

He  shook  his  head.  She  had  gone  to  her 
room,  and  remained  there  when  I  went 
away. 

"  Well,  Harmer,  I  shall  be  in  town  the  day 
after  to-morrow,"  I  said  at  last,  "and  if 
anything  happens,  you  can  send  me  word ; 
and  go  and  see  Mrs.  Ticehurst  meanwhile." 

"  I  will  do  that,"  said  he,  "  but  to-morrow 
morning  I  have  to  go  up  the  lake  to  the 


204 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


lU 


I 


logging  camp,  and  don't  know  when  I  shall 
be  back.  That's  what  Custer  said  this 
mornings  when  I  asked  him  to  let  me  come 
over  here." 

"  Very  well,  it  won't  matter,  I  dare  say,"  I 
answered.     "  Take  care  of  yourself,  Jack." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  he,  turning 
round  in  the  saddle,  and  wincing  as  he  did 
so,  "  it  is  you  who  must  be  careful !  Pt*ay, 
do  be  very  careful !  " 

I  nodded,  shook  hands,  and  rode  on. 

"When  I  came  to  the  Flemings',  Fanny 
was  at  the  big  gate,  and  she  asked  a  question 
by  her  eyes  before  we  got  close  enough  to 
speak. 

"Yes,  Fanny,"  said  I,  "it  was  serious." 
And  then  I  told  her  what  had  occurred. 
She  held  out  her  hand  and  pressed  mine 
sympathetically. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Tom,"  was  all  she  said ; 
but  she  said  it  so  kindly  that  her  voice 
almost  brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes, 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


205 


"Has  Elsie  spoken  to  you  since  I  went, 
Fanny  ? "  I  asked,  as  we  walked  down  to 
the  house  together,  while  my  horse  followed 
with  his  head  hanging  down. 

"  I  haven't  even  seen  her,  Tom,"  she 
replied  ;  "  the  door  was  locked,  and  when  I 
knocked  she  told  me  to  go  away,  which,  as 
it's  my  room  too,  was  not  very  polite." 

In  spite  of  my  love  for  Elsie,  I  felt 
somewhat  bitter  against  her  injustice  to  me, 
and  I  was  glad  to  see  that  I  made  her  suffer 
a  little  on  her  part.  I  know  I  have  said  very 
little  about  my  own  feelings,  for  I  don't  care 
somehow  to  put  down  all  that  I  felt,  any 
more  than  I  like  to  tell  any  stranger  all  that 
is  near  my  heaii; ;  but  I  did  feel  strongly  and 
deeply,  and  to  see  her,  who  was  with  me  by 
day  and  night  as  the  object  of  my  fondest 
hope,  so  unjust,  was  enough  to  make  me 
bitter.  I  wished  to  reproach  her,  for  I  was 
not  a  child — a  boy,  to  be  fooled  with  like 
this. 


1 1 


206 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"  Go  and  ask  her  to  see  me,  Fanny,  please," 
I  said  rather  sternly,  as  I  stood  outside  the 
door,  "  And  don't  tell  her  anything  of  what 
I  told  you,  either  of  Will  or  Matthias." 

Fanny  started. . 

"  You  never  said  anything  of  Matthias ! " 
she  cried. 

"Didn't  I,  Fanny?  Well,  then,  I  will. 
He  has  escaped  from  prison,  and  I  suppose 
he  is  after  me  by  this.  But  don't  tell  Elsie. 
Just  say  I  want  to  see  her." 

In  a  few  moments  she  came  back,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  She  won't,  Tom  !  She  is  in  an  obstinate 
fit,  I  know.  And  though  she  is  crying  her 
eyes  out — the  spiteful  cat ! — she  won't  come. 
I  know  her.  She  just  told  me  to  go  away. 
What  shall  I  do  ? "  she  asked. 

"Nothing,  Fanny,"  I  answered;  "you  can 
tell  her  what  you  like.  Will  you  be  so  cruel 
to  your  lover,  little  Fanny  ? " 

She  looked  up  saucily. 


LOVE    AND    HATE. 


207 


"  I  don't  know,  Tom ;  I  shall  see  when  I 
have  one  " — and  she  laughed. 

"  What  about  Jack  Harmer,  then  ? " 

"Well,  you  see,"  and  she  looked  down, 
"he's  very  young."  She  wasn't  more  than 
seventeen  herself,  and  looked  younger. 
"  And,  besides,  I  don't  care  for  anybody  but 
Elsie  and  father  and  you,  Tom." 

"Very  well,  Fanny,"  said  I;  "give  me  a 
kiss  from  Elsie,  and  make  her  give  it  }j\i 
back." 

"  I  will,  Tom,"  she  said  quite  simply,  and, 
kissing  her,  I  rode  off  quietly  across  the  flat 
to  my  solitary  home. 


I 


^ 


PART  V. 


AT  THE   BLACK   CAlfON. 

Now,  as  far  as  I  have  gone  in  this  story,  I 
have  related  nothing  which  I  did  not  see  or 
hear  myself,  which  is,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the 
proper  way  to  do  it,  provided  nothing  impor- 
tant is  left  out.  But  as  I  have  learnt  since 
then  what  happened  to  other  people,  and 
have  pieced  the  stoiy  together  in  my  mind, 
I  see  it  is  necessary  to  def)art  from  the  rule  I 
have  observed  hitherto,  if  I  don't  want  to  ex- 
plain, after  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  the 
whole  history,  what  occurred  before;  and 
that,  I  can  see,  would  be  a  very  clumsy  way 
of  narrating  any  affair.  Now,  what  I  am  go- 
ing to  tell  I  have  on  very  good  evidence,  for 
Dave  at  the  Forks,  and  Conlan's  stableman 
told  me  pai*t,  and  afterward,  as  will  be  seen, 

209 


f^   .1  ! 


\}\  1 


■"f^lj 


i\ 


y  'J,   i 


J    '   ''I  I 


B't    > 


ll 


! 


it] 

ih!    i 

i 


'H     I 


I 


1 1 

)  It  I 

i    I 


I 
i 

li 


f 


210 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I  actually  learnt  something  from  Siwash  Jim 
himself,  who  here  plays  rather  a  curious  and 
important  part.  r 

It  appears  that  the  day  after  I  was  at  the 
Forks  (which  day  I  spent,  by  the  way,  with 
Mr.  Fleming,  riding  round  the  countiy, 
returning  afterward  by  the  trail  which  led 
from  the  Black  Canon  down  to  my  house)  , 
Siwash  Jim,  who  had  to  all  appearance 
recovered  from  the  injuries,  which,  however, 
were  only  bruises,  that  I  had  inflicted  oil  him, 
began  to  drink  early  in  the  morning.  Fs 
had,  so  Dave  says,  quite  an  unnatural  power 
of  keeping  sober — and  Dave  himself  can 
drink  more  than  any  two  men  I  am  acquainted 
with,  unless  it  is  Mac,  my  old  partner,  so  he  ^ 
ought  to  know.  And  though  Jim  drank 
hard,  he  did  not  become  drunk,  but  only 
abused  me.  He  called  me  all  the  names 
from  coyote  upward  and  downward  which 
a  British  Columbian  of  any  standing  has  at 
his  tongue's  end,  and  when  Jim  had  exhausted 


AT    TUB    BLAOE    OA^ON. 


211 


the  resources  of  the  fertile  American  lan- 
guage, lie  started  in  Siwash  or  Indian,  in 
which  there  are  many  choice  terms  of  abuse. 
But  in  spite  of  his  openness,  Dave  says 
it  was  quite  evident  he  was  dangerous,  and 
that  I  might  really  have  been  in  peril  at  any 
time  of  the  day  if  I  had  come  to  town,  for 
Jim  was  deemed  a  bad  character  among  his 
companions,  and  had,  so  it  was  said,  killed 
one  man  at  least,  though  he  had  never  been 
tried  for  it.  But  though  he  sat  all  day  in  the 
bar,  using  toy  name  openly,  he  never  made 
a  move  till  eight  in  the  evening,  when  he 
went  out  for  awhile. 

When  he  returned  he  was  accompanied  by 
a  thin  dark  man,  wearing  a  slouch  hat  over 
his  eyes,  whom  Dave  took  to  be  a  hiilf -breed 
pf  some  kind,  and  they  had  drinks  together, 
for  which  the  stranger  paid,  speaking  in  good 
English,  but  not  with  a  Western  accent. 
Tlien  the  two  went  to  the  other  side  of  the 
room.     What  their  conversation  was,  no  one 


212 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


ma 


jjijr^     .'.' 


knows  exactly,  nor  did  I  ever  learn;  but 
Dave,  who  was  keeping  his  eye  on  Jim,  says 
that  it  Feemed  as  if  the  stranger  was  trying 
to  pei'suade  Jim  to  be  quiet  and  stay  where 
he  was,  and  from  what  occurred  afterward 
there  is  little  doubt  his  supposition  was  cor- 
rect. Moreover,  my  name  undoubtedly  oc-  - 
curred  in  this  conversation,  for  Dave  heard 
it,  and  the  name  of  my  ranch  as  well.  Soon 
after  that  some  men  came  in,  and,  in  conse-  • 
quence  of  his  being  busy,  Dave  did  not  see 
Jim  go  out.  But  Conlan's  stableman  says 
Jim  came  to  the  stable  with  the  stranger  and 
got  his  horse.  When  asked  where  he  was 
going,  he  said  for  a  ride,  and  would  answer 
no  more  questions.  And  all  the  time  the 
strange  man  tried  to  persuade  him  not  to  go, 
and  to  come  and  have  another  drink.  If  Jim 
had  been  flush  of  money  there  might  have 
been  a  motive  for  this,  but  as  he  was  not, 
there  seemed  then  to  be  none  beyond  the 
sudden  and  absurd  fondness  that  men  some- 


■ji 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAfJON. 


213 


times  conceive  for  each  other  when  drunk. 
But  if  this  were  the  case,  it  was  only  on  the 

,  stranger's  side,  for  when  the  horse  was  brought 
round  to  the  door  Jim  mounted  it,  and  when 
the  other  man  still  importuned  him  not  to  go, 
Siwash  Jim  struck  at  him  with  his  left  hand 

,  and  knocked  off  his  hat  as  he  stood  in  the 
light  coming  from  the  bar.  And  just  then 
attention  was  drawn  from  Jim  by  a  sudden 
shriek  from  the  other  side  of  the  road  whei'e 
Conlan's  private  house  stood.  When  Dave 
came  out  and  looked  for  him  again,  both  he 
and  the  other  man  had  disappeared  down  the 
road,  which  branched  about  half  a  mile  out 
of  town  into  two  forks,  one  leading  east- 
ward and  the  other  southw^ard  to  the  Flem- 
ings'. 

Now,  as  I  said  before,  most  of  that  day  I 
had  been  out  riding  with  Mr.  Fleming,  who 
left  me  early  in  order  to  go  to  the  next  ranch 
down  the  road,  and  I  had  told  him  the  whole 
story  about  Mat's  escape,  and  my  brother's 


214 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


R^M 


death,  which  he  agreed  with  me  were  hardly 
likely  to  be  connected.  Yet  he  acknowledged 
if  they  were  I  was  in  much  more  danger  than 
one  would  have  thought  before,  because  such 
a  deed  would  show  the  Malay  was  a  desper- 
ado of  the  most  fearless  and  dangerous  de- 
scription ;  and  besides,  if  he  had  robbed  Will, 
it  was  more  than  likely  he  knew  where  I  was 
from  my  own  letters,  or  from  my  address 
written  in  a  pocketbook  my  brother  always 
carried,  and  which  was  missing.  Of  course, 
this  conversation  made  me  full,  as  it  were,  of 
Mat ;  and  that,  combined  with  the  unlucky 
tuni  affairs  had  taken  with  regard  to  Elsie, 
made  me  more  nervous  than  I  was  inclined 
to  acknowledge  to  her  father.  So  before  I 
went  to  bed,  which  I  did  at  ten  o'clock — for  I 
was  very  tired,  being  still  unaccustomed  to 
much  riding — I  locked  my  door  carefully,  and 
put  the  table  against  it,  neither  of  which 
things  I  had  ever  done  before,  and  which  I 
was  almost  inclined  to  undo  at  once,  for  it 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


216 


seemed  cowardly  to  me.  Yet  I  thought  of 
Elsie,  and,  still  hoping  to  win  her,  I  was  care- 
ful of  my  life.  I  went  to  sleep,  in  spite  of 
my  nervous  preoccupation,  almost  as  soon  as 
I  lay  d^  .vUy  and  I  suppose  I  must  have  been 
asleep  two  hours  before  I  woke  out  of  a  hor- 
rible dream.  I  thought  that  I  was  on  board 
ship,  in  my  own  berth,  lying  in  the  bunk,  and 
that  Mat  was  on  my  chest  strangling  me  with 
his  long  lithe  fingers.  And  all  the  time  I 
heard,  as  I  thought,  the  sails  flap,  as  though 
the  vessel  had  come  up  in  the  wind.  As  I 
struggled — and  I  did  struggle  desperately — 
the  blood  seemed  to  go  up  into  my  head  and 
eyes,  until  I  sa^v  the  fiend's  face  in  a  red 
light,  and  then  I  woke.  The  house  was  on 
fire,  and  I  was  being  suffocated !  As  the 
flames  worked  in  from  the  outside,  and  made 
the  scorching  timbers  crack  again  and  again, 
I  sprang  out  of  bed.  I  had  lain  down  with 
my  trousers  on,  and,  seeing  at  once  there 
must  be  foul  play  for  the  house  to  catch  fire 


216 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I     ! 


ii^M  ill 


on  the  outside,  and  at  the  back  too,  where  I 
never  went,  I  drew  on  my  boots,  snatched  my 
revolver  up,  and  leapt  at  the  front  window, 
through  which  I  went  with  a  crash,  uttering 
a  loud  cry  as  I  did  so,  for  a  piece  of  the  glass 
cut  my  left  arm  deeply.  As  I  came  to  the 
ground,  I  saw  a  horseman  in  front  of  me,  and 
by  the  light  of  the  fire,  which  had  already 
mounted  to  the  roof  of  the  house,  I  recognized 
Siwash  Jim.  Then,  whether  it  was  that  the 
horse  he  rode  was  frightened  at  the  crash  I 
made  or  not,  it  suddenly  bounded  into  the 
air,  turned  sharp  round,  and  bolted  into  the 
brush,  Just  where  the  trail  came  down  from 
the  Black  Canon.  As  Jim  disappeared,  I 
fired,  but  with  no  effect ;  and  that  my  shot  was 
neither  returned  nor  anticipated  was,  I  saw, 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  villain  had  dropped 
his  own  six-shooter,  probably  at  the  first 
bound  of  his  horse,  just  where  he  had  been 
standing. 

I  was  in  a  blind  fury  of  rage,  for  such  a 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


217 


luch  a 


cowardly  and  treacherous  attatk  on  an  un- 
offending man's  life  seemed  hardly  credible 
to  me.  And  there  my  home  was  burning, 
and  it  was  no  fault  of  his  that  I  was  not 
burning  with  it,  or  shot  dead  outside  my  own 
door.  But  he  should  not  escape,  if  I  chased 
him  for  a  month.  I  was  glad  he  had  been 
forced  to  take  the  trail,  for  there  was  no  pos- 
sible outlet  to  it  for  miles,  so  thick  was  the 
brush  in  that  mountainous  region.  Fortu- 
nately, I  now  had  two  horses  ;  and  the  one  in 
my  stable,  which  I  had  only  bought  from 
Fleming  a  week  before,  was  not  the  one  I 
had  been  riding  all  that  day.  I  threw  the 
saddle  on  him,  clinched  it  up  tightly,  and  led 
him  out.  I  carried  both  the  weapons,  my 
own  and  Jim's,  and  I  rode  up  the  narrow  and 
winding  path  in  a  blind  and  desperate  fury, 
which  seldom  comes  to  a  man,  but  when  it 
does  it  makes  him  careless  of  his  own  life 
and  utterly  reckless ;  and  as  I  rode,  in  a 
fashion  I  had  never  done  before,  even  though 


Si 


218 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


I  trusted  a  mountain-bred  and  forest-trained 
hoi'se,  I  swore  that  I  myself  should  die  that 
night,  or  that  Siwash  Jim  should  feel  the  just 
weight  of  my  wrath.  But  before  I  can  tell 
the  terrible  story  of  that  terrible  night  I  must 
return  once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  to 
Thomson  Forks. 

I  said,  some  pages  back,  that  attention  had 
b^en  drawn  from  Siwash  Jim  and  his  strange 
companion  by  a  sudden  shriek  from  Ned 
Conlan's  house.  That  shriek  had  been  uttered 
by  Helen,  who  was  still  staying  with  Mrs. 
Conlan,  as  she  and  her  hostess  were  standing 
outside  in  the  dying  twilight,  and,  after 
screaming,  she  had  fainted,  remaining  insensi- 
ble for  nearly  half  an  hour.  When  Dr. 
Smith,  as  he  called  .himself — though  an 
Englishman  has  natural  doubts  as  to  how 
the  practitioners  in  the  West  earn  their 
diplomas — ^had  helped  her  recovery,  she  spoke 
at  once  in  a  state  of  nervous  excitement  pain- 
ful to  witness. 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAlTON. 


219 


"  Oh,  I  saw  him — I  saw  him  ! "  she  said,  in 
an  hysterical  voice. 

"  Who,  my  dear  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Conlan,  in 
what  people  call  a  comfoi-ting  way. 
,    "Where  is  Mr    Conlan?"    was    Helenas 
answer.     He  came  into    the  room  in  which 
she  was  lying.     Helen  turned  to  him  at  once. 

"  Mr.  Conlan,  I  want  you  to  take  me  out  to 
my  brother-in-law's  house — to  Mr.  Ticehurst's 
farm  ! "    .  . 

They  all  exclaimed  against  her  foolishness 
and  demanded  why  ;  while  Conlan  scratched 
his  head  in  a  puzzled  manner. 

"  I  tell  you  I  must  see  him  to-night,  and  at 
once !  For  I  saw  the  man  who  swore  to  kill 
him." 

The  bystanders  shook  their  heads  sagely, 
thinking  she  was  mad,  but  Conlan  asked  if 
she  meant  Si  wash  Jim. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  it  was  not  Jim."  But 
she  must  go,  and  she  would.  With  an  extra- 
ordinary exhibition  of  strength,  she  rose  and 


I 


ii! 


;!J 


220 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


ordered  horses  in  an  imperative  tone,  saying 
she  was  quite  well  enough  to  do  as  she 
liked. 

Mrs.  Conlan  appealed  to  the  doctor,  and 
he,  perhaps  being  glad  to  advise  against  the 
opinion  of  those  present,  as  such  a  course 
might  indicate  his  superior  knowledge,  said 
he  thought  it  best  to  let  her  have  her  own 
way.  I  think,  too,  that  Helen,  who  seemed 
to  have  regained  her  strength,  had  regained 
with  it  her  old  power  of  making  people  do  as 
she  wished.  At  any  rate,  Mr.  Conlan  meekly 
acquiesced,  and,  saying  he  would  drive  her 
himself,  went  out  to  order  horses  at  once. 
When  the  buggy  was  brought  to  the  door, 
Helen  got  up  without  assistance,  and  begged 
him  to  be  quick.  His  wife,  who  would  never 
have  dared  to  even  suggest  his  hurrying, 
stood  aghast  at  seeing  her  usually  master- 
ful husband  do  as  he  was  bid.  They  drove 
off,  leaving  Mrs.  Conlan  to  prophesy  certain 
death  as  the  result  of  this  inexplicable  ex- 


AT    THE    BLACK    OAJTON. 


221 


pedition,  while  the  others  speculated,  more  or 
less  wildly,  as  to  what  it  all  meant. 

Conlan  told  me  that  Helen  never  spoke  all 
the  way  except  to  ask  how  much  longer  they 
were  going  to  be,  or  to  complain  of  the 
slowness  of  the  pace. 

"Most  women,"  said  Ned,  "would  have 
been  scared  at  the  way  I  drove,  for  it  was 
pitch  dark ;  and  if  *he  horses  hadn't  known 
the  road  as  well,  or  better,  than  I  did,  we 
should  have  come  to  grief  in  the  first  mile. 
But  she  never  turned  a  hair.  She  was  a 
wonderful  woman,  sir ! " 

It  was  already  past  eleven  o'clock  when 
they  got  to  the  top  of  the  hill  just  above 
Fleming's,  and  from  there  the  light  of  my 
house  burning  could  be  di^inctly  seen, 
although  the  place  itself  was  hidden  by  a 
rise,  and  Helen  pointed  to  it,  nervously 
demanding  what  it  was. 

"Ticehurst    must    have     been    burning 
brushy"  said  Conlan,  offering  the  very  like- 


iiiH 


'Si 


if 


ill 

b-i .::.  ■ 
If;'.'  :  ,  , 

"  ■  V  ■  i'    ^f  i    ! 
'  '    ■  ■      ■      I 


Milil 


.7i     ,« 


'.fi'',' ,- 


222 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


liest  explanation.  But  Helen  said,  "  No,  no," 
impatiently,  and  told  him  to  huiTy.  Just 
then  Conlan  remembered  that  he  did  not 
know  the  road  across  from  Fleming's  to  my 
place,  and  said  so.  > 

"You  had  better  stop  at  Fleming's,  and 
send  for  him.  They  aint  in  bed  yet,  ma'am. 
I  see  their  light." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  the  Flemings;  I 
want  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  said  Helen  obstinately. 

"Well,  we  must  stop  at  Fleming's,"  said 
Conlan,  "  if  it's  only  to  ask  the  way.  I  don't 
know  the  road,  and  I'm  not  going  to  kill  you 
and  myself  by  driving  into  the  creek  such  a 
night  as  this." 

And  Helen  was  fain  to  acquiesce,  for  she 
could  not  do  otherwise. 

When  they  reached  the  house  Fanny  was 
standing  outside,  and  as  the  light  from  the 
open  door  fell  on  Helen's  pallid  face,  she 
screamed. 

"Good   Heavens,  Mrs.    Ticehurst!    Is   it 


AT    THE    BLACK    CASTON. 


223 


,  no, 
Just 
L  not 
omy 


s. 


and 


naam. 

igs;  I 
nately. 
"  said 
I  don't 
ill  you 
such  a 


tor 


she 


)m 


Ice, 


was 
tlie 
she. 


Is   it 


you  ? "  she  cried — "  and  you,  Mr.  Conlan  ? 
Oh,  I  am  so  glad  ! — father's  away,  and  Mr. 
Ticehui'st's  house  must  be  on  fire." 

"  Ah  ! "  said  Helen,  "  I  thought  so.  Oh, 
oh  !  he's  dead,  I  know  he's  dead  !  I  must  go 
to  him  !  Fanny,  dear,  can  you  show  us  the 
way — can  you  ?  You  must !  Perhaps  we 
can  save  him  yet !  " 

She  frightened  Fanny  terribly,  for  her  face 
was  so  pale  and  her  eyes  glittered  so,  and  for 
a  moment  the  girl  could  hardly  speak. 

"  I  don't  know  it  by  night,  Mrs.  Ticehurst ; 
but  Elsie  does,"  she  said  at  last.  "      > 

"  Where  is  she,  then  ? "  said  Helen  eagerly. 

"She's  gone  over  there  now,"  cried  Fanny, 
"  for  father  had  not  coinf^  home ;  and  when 
we  saw  the  fire,  we  were  afraid  something 
had  happened,  so  Elsie  took  the  black  horse 
and  went  over.     She's  there  now." 

"  Then  what  shall  we  do  ? "  cried  Helen,  in 
an  agony,  "  he  will  be  killed  ! " 

"What    is     it,    Mrs.    Ticehurst?"    asked 


224 


THE  MATE  OF  THE    7ANC0UVER. 


Fanny,  trembling    all  over.     "Oh,  what  is 

it?"  -  'if -'■;■•  /•'•''■^  ■'■'■.., 

But  she  took  no    notice    and   sat  like  a 

statue,  only  she  breathed  hard  and  heavily, 
and  her  hands  twitched,  as  she  looked  to- 
ward ray  burning  home. 

"  Silence ! "    she    cried     sud3enly,  though 
no   one   spoke.     "There   is   somebody   com- 


ing 


J) 


And  the  three  of  them  looked  into  the 
darkness,  in  which  there  was  a  white  figure 
moving  rapidly. 

"  It  is  Elsie  ! "  screamed  Fanny  joyfully ; 
and  Helen  sprang  from  th*^  ^^ggy,  and  stood 
in  the  light,  as  Elsie  exclaimed  in  wonder  at 
Fanny's  excited  voice. 

The  two  women  stood  face  to  face,  looking 
in  each  other's  eyes,  and  then  Elsie,  who  for 
one  moment  had  shown  nothing  but  surpiise, 
went  white  with  scorn  and  anger.  How  glad 
I  should  have  been  to  have  seen  her  so,  or  to 
have  learnt,  even  at  that  moment  when  I 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


225 


stood  in  the  greatest  peril  I  have  ever  known, 
that  she  had  ridden  over  to  save  or  help  me, 
even  though  her  acts  but  added  a  greater 
danger  to  those  in  which  I  already  stood. 
For  her  deed  and  her  look  were  the  deed  and 
look  of  a  woman  who  io'^es  and  is  jealous. 
But  it  might  have  seemed  to  me,  had  I  been 
ciiere,  that  Helen's  coming  had  overbalanced 
the  scale  once  more  against  me,  and  perhaps 
for  the  last  time.  I  am  glad  I  did  not  know 
that  fear  until  it  was  only  imagination,  and 
the  imaginary  canceling  of  a  series  of 
events,  that  could  place  me  again  in  such  a 
situatUm.  "       ; 

^is:  •  :vo  women  looked  at  each  other,  and 
then  El  id  curned  away.  *   - 

"Stop,  stop!"  cried  Helen;  '^what  has 
happened  ?     Where  is  Mr.  Ticeharst  ? " 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ? "  said  Elsie  cruelly, 
and  with  her  eyes  flaming. 

**  T'jii  us,  Elsie,"  said  Fanny  implor- 
ingly. 


226 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


i,i|     I 


"  I  will  not !  "  said  her  sister — "  not  to  this 
woman !  Go  back,  Mrs.  Ticehurst !  What 
are  you  doing  here  ? " 

Helen  caught  her  by  the  arm,  and  looked 
in  her  face.  '    . ,  >       .  X 

"Girl,  I  know  }  r  ^houghts !"  she  said  ; 
*'but  you  are  wrong  I  tell  you,  you  are 
wrong  !     You  love  him "  -  i         - 

"  I  do  not ! "  said  Elsie  angrily.  "  I  love 
no  other  woman's  lover ! " 

Surely,  though  there  were  two  dazed  on- 
lookers, these  women  were  in  a  state  to  speak 
their  natural  minds.  I    - 

"  Girl,  girl ! "  said  Helen,  once  more,  "  I 
tell  you  again,  you  are  wrong !  You  are 
endangering  your  lover's  life.  Is  he  not  your 
lover,  or  did  you  go  over  there  to  find  out 
nothing?  I  tell  you,  I  came  to  save  him, 
and  to  save  him  for  you — no,  not  for  you,  you 
are  not  worth  it,  though  he  thinks  you 
perfection!  You  are  a  wicked  girl,  and  a 
fool !     Come,  come !  why  don't  you  speak  ? 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA!^0N, 


227 


What  has  become  of  him  ?  Is  he  over  there 
now  ?  ^ 

Elsie  was  silent,  but  yielding.  Fanny 
spoke  again. 

"  Elsie — ^Elsie,  speak — answer  her  !  What 
happened  over  there,  and  where  is  the  horse  ? " 

Elsie  turned  to  her,  as  though  disdaining 
to  answer  Helen. 

"  Someone  set  his  house  on  fire,  I  think ; 
perhaps  it  was  Jim,  and  Mr.  Ticehurst  has 
gone  after  him !  " 

"  Ah ! "  said  Helen,  as  if  relieved,  "  if  that 
is  all !  How  did  you  know  he  is  gone — did 
you  see  him,  speak  to  him?" 

"  No,"  said  Elsie  :  "  I  did  not !  "  - 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  ? "  cried  Fanny 
and  Helen,  together.  .         . 

"There  was  a  man  there ■' 

Helen  cried  out  as  if  she  were  struck,  and 
Elsie  paused. 

"  Go  on ! "  the  other  cried — "  go  on  ! " 

"  And  when  I  came  up  he  was  sitting  by 


228 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


the  house.     I  asked  him  if  Mr.  Ticehurst  was 
there— 


7» 


"  Oh,  you  fool ! "  groaned  Helen,  but  only 
Fanny  heard  it. 

"And  he  got  up,"  continued  Elsie,  "and 
said  there  was  no  one  there,  but  just  as  he 
was  coming  from  his  camp  to  see  what  the 
fire  was,  he  heard  a  shot,  and  when  he  got  to 
the  house  he  saw  somebody  just  disappear 
up  the  trail  toward  the  canon." 

"  Did  you  know  him  ? "  said  Helen,  as  Elsie 
paused  to  take  breath,  for  when  she  began  to 
speak  she  spoke  rapidly,  and,  conceal  it  as 
she  would,  it  was  evident  she  was  in  a  fearful 
state  of  excitement.  ^     ^  . 

"  No,"  said  Elsie ;  "  but  I  think  I  have  seen 
him  before."    v       .^  ' 

"  Where  is  he,  then  ?  "  cried  Helen,  holding 
her  hand  to  her  heart.     "  Is  he  there  still  ? " 

"  No,"  cried  Fanny,  alm*ost  joyfully,  "  you 
gave  him  your  horse  to  go  and  find  Tom,  and 
help  him,  didn't  you,  Elsie  ? " 


) 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAlTON. 


229 


And  Helen  screamed  out  in  a  terrible 
voice,  "No,  no  !  you  did  not,  you  did  not — 
say  you  did  not,  gii'l ! " 

Elsie,  who  had  turned  whiter  and  whiter, 
turned  to  her  suddenly. 
:  "Yes,  I  did,"  she  cried;  "I  did  give  him 
the  horse." 

Helen  lifted  her  hands  up  over  her  head 
with  an  awful  gesture  of  despair,  and  fell  on 
her  knees,  catching  hold  of  both  the  girls' 
dresses.     But  she  held  up  and  spoke. 

"  Oh,  you  wretched,  unhappy  girl ! "  she 
cried.  "What  have  you  done — what  have 
you  done  ?  To  whom  did  you  give  the  horse  ? 
I  know,  I  know !  I  saw  him  this  very  night 
— the  man  who  swore  to  be  revenged  on  him 
if  it  were  after  a  century.  The  man  who 
nearly  killed  him  once,  and  who  has  escaped 
from  prison.  You  have  given  him  the  means 
of  killing  your  lover — you  have  given  Tom 
Ticehurst  up  to  Matthias,  to  a  mui'derer — a 
murderer  I " 


I'l- 1 


iliil 


230 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


And  she  fell  back,  and  this  time  did  not 
recover  herself,  but  lay  insensible,  still  holding 
the  girls'  dresses  with  as  desperate  a  clutch 
as  though  she  were  keeping  back  from  follow- 
ing me  the  man  who  was  upon  my  track  that 
terrible  midnight.  But  Elsie  stooped,  freed 
her  dress,  and  saying  to  Fanny,  "  See  to  her — 
see  to  her ! "  ran  down  to  the  stable  again, 
just  as  her  father  rode  through  the  higher 
gate. 

And  as  that  girl,  who  had  known  horses 
and  ridden  from  her  childhood,  was  saddling 
\he  first  one  she  came  to  in  the  stable,  I  was 
riding  hard  and  desperately  in  the  dark 
brush,  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  behind  Siwash 
Jim.  V    ;;  .. 

-..'--..  ■  ■    .  -^'  ,.-■-,,. 

-  "  #  ■  -.'  "-" 

The  trail  upon  which  we  both  were  ran 
from  my  house  straight  up  into  the  mountains 
for  nearly  ten  miles,  and  then  followed  the 
verge  of  the  Black  Canon  for  more  than  a 
mile  farther.     When  I  came  up  to  that  place 


AT    THE    BLACK    OAlTON. 


231 


I  stayed  for  one  moment,  and  heard  the  dull 
and  sullen  roar  of  the  broken  waters  three 
hundred  feet  beneath  me,  and  then  I  rode  on 
again  as  though  I  was  as  iiTesistibly  impelled 
as  they  were,  and  was  just  as  bound  to  cut 
my  way  through  what  Fate  had  placed 
before  as  they  had  been  to  carve  that  narrow 
and  tremendous  chasm  in  the  living  rock. 
And  at  last  I  came  to  a  fork  in  the  trail. 
If  I  had  not  been  there  before  with  Mr. 
Fleming,  I  should  most  likely  have  never 
oeen  Jim  that  night,  perhaps  never  again. 
But  we  had  stayed  at  that  very  spot.  The 
left-hand  fork  was  the  main  track,  and  led 
right  over  the  mountains  into  the  Nicola 
Valley ;  while  the  left  and  disused  one,  which 
was  partially  obliterated  by  thick-growing 
weeds,  led  back  through  the  impassable  scrub 
and  rough  rocks  to  the  middle  of  the  Black 
Canon.  I  had  passed  that  end  of  it  without 
thinking,  for  indeed  it  was  scarcely  likely  he 
would  have  turned  off  there.     The  chance? 


232 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANOOUVEK. 


l  ! 


seemed  a  thousand  to  one  that  Jim  would 
take  the  left-hand  path,  but  just  because  it 
did  seem  so  certain,  I  alighted  from  my  horse 
and  struck  a  light.  The  latest  horse  track 
led  to  the  right  hand !  He  had  relied  on  my 
taking  the  widest  path,  and  continuing  in  it 
until  it  was  too  late  to  catch  a  man  who  had 
so  skillfully  doubled  on  me.  I  had  no  doubt 
that  his  curses  at  losing  his  revolver  were 
changed  into  chuckles,  as  he  thought  of  me 
riding  headlong  in  the  night,  until  my  horse 
was  exhausted,  while  he  was  returning  the 
way  I  had  come.  I  stopped  to  think,  and 
then,  getting  on  my  horse,  I  I'ode  back  slowly 
to  where  the  trails  joined  at  the  edge  of  the 
Canon.  I  would  wait  for  him  there.  And  I 
waited  more  than  half  an  hour. 

It  is  strange  how  such  little  circumstances 
alter  everything,  for  not  only  would  Jim's 
following  the  Nicola  trail  have  resulted  in 
something  very  different,  but,  waiting  half  an 
hour,  during  which  I  cooled  somewhat  and 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


233 


lost  the  first  blind  rage  of  passion  in  which  I 
had  set  out,  set  me  reflecting  as  to  what  I 
should  do.  If  I  had  come  up  with  him  at 
full  gallop  I  should  have  shot  him  there  and 
then.  He  would  have  expected  it,  and  it 
would  have  been  just  vengeance ;  but  now  I 
was  quietly  waiting  for  him,  and  to  shoot 
him  when  he  appeared  seemed  to  me  hardly 
less  cowardly  conduct  than  his  own.  Then, 
if  I  gave  him  warning,  he  would  probably 
escape  me,  and  I  was  not  so  generous  as  to 
let  him  have  the  chance.  Yet,  in  after  years, 
seeing  all  that  followed  from  what  I  did,  I 
think  I  was  more  generous  than  just.  I  ought 
to  have  regarded  myself  as  the  avenging  arm 
of  the  law,  and  have  struck  as  coolly  as  an 
executioner.  But  I  determined  to  give  him 
a  chance  for  his  life,  though  giving  him  that 
was  risking  my  own,  which  I  held  d(iar,  if 
only  for  Elsie's  sake;  and  so  I  backed  my 
hoi*se  into  the  brush,  where  I  commanded 
both  trails,  and,  cocking  both  revolvers,  I  sat 


*W;i 


II 


!    I 


234 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


waiting.  In  half  an  hour  I  heard  the  tramp 
of  a  horse,  though  at  first  I  could  not  tell 
from  which  way  the  sound  came.  But  at 
last  I  saw  that  I  had  been  right  in  my  con- 
jecture, and  that  my  enemy  was  given  into 
my  hands.  My  heai-t  beat  fast,  but  my 
hands  were  steady,  for  I  had  full  command 
over  myself.  I  waited  until  he  was  nearly 
alongside  of  me,  and  then  I  spoke.  ' 

"Throw  up  your  hands,  Siwash  Jim!"  I 
said,  in  a  voice  that  rang  out  over  the  roar 
of  the  waters  below  us,  "  or  you  are  a  dead 
man! 

And  he  threw  them  up,  and  as  he  sat  there 
I  could  see  his  horse  was  wearied  out.  If  it 
had  not  been,  perhaps  my  voice  would  have 
stai-tled  it,  and  compelled  me  to  fire. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  said  he, 
sullenly  peering  in  my  direction,  for  he  could 
barely  see  me  against  my  background  of  trees 
and  brush,  whereas  I  had  him  against  the 
sky. 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


235 


amp 

tell 
it  at 

con- 

into 
;  my 
tnand 
learly 

a!"  I 
B  roar 
,  dead 

there 
If  it 
have 

id  he, 
could 
f  trees 
st  the 


"I  will  tell  you,  you  miserable  scoundrel  I " 
I  answered.  "  But  first,  get  off  your  horse, 
and  do  it  slowly,  or  I  will  put  two  bullets 
through  you !     Mind  me !  " 

He  dismounted  slowly.         *. 

"Tie  your  horse  to  that  sapling,  if  you  will 
be  kind  enough,"  I  said  further ;  "  and  don't 
be  in  a  hurry  about  it,  and  don't  attempt  to 
get  behind  it,  or  you  know  what  will  hanpen." 

When  he  had  done  as  I  ordered,  I  spoke 
again. 

"  Have  you  got  any  matches  ? '' 
.  "Yes,"  he  replied. 

.  "  Of  course  you  have,  you  villain !  The 
same  you  set  my  house  on  fire  with.  Well, 
now  rake  up  some  brush,  and  make  a  little 
fire  here." 

"  What  for  ? "  said  he  quickly,  for  I  believe 
he  thought  for  a  moment  I  meant  to  roast 
him  alive.  I  undeceived  him  if  that  was  his 
idea 

"  So  that  we  can  see  each  other,"  I  replied, 


236 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


"  for  I'm  going  to  give  you  a  chance  for  your 
life,  though  you  don't  deserve  it.  Where's 
your  six-shooter  ? " 

"  I  dropped  it,"  he  grunted. 

"  And  I  picked  it  up,"  said  I.  "  So  make 
haste  if  you  don't  want  to  be  killed  with 
your  own  weapon  !  " 

What  his  thoughts  weio  I  can't  say,  but 
witnout  more  words  he  set  about  making  a 
fire,  soon  having  a  vigorous  blaze,  by  which  I 
saw  plainly  enough  the  loo]?.s  of  fear,  distrust, 
and  hatred  he  cast  at  me.  But  he  piled  on 
the  branches,  though  I  checked  him  once  cr 
twice  when  I  thought  he  was  going  too  far 

» 

to  gather  them.  When  there  was  sufficient 
light  to  illuminate  the  whole  space  about  us 
and  the  opposing  bank  of  the  canon,  I  told 
him  that  was  enough. 

"  That  will  do,"  I  said  ;  "  go  and  stand  at 
the  edge  of  the  canon !  " 

He  hesitated. 

"  You're  not  going  to  shoot  me  like  a  dog, 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


237 


rour 
gre's 


nake 
witli 

>r,  but 

Aug  a 
bichl 
strust, 
ed  ou 
Qce  <-r 
,00  far 
fficient 
>out  us 
I  told 

land  at 


a 


dog, 


and  put  me  down  there,  ai  c  you  ? "  said  he, 
tremhling. 

"Like  a  dog?"  said  I  passionately;  "did 
you  not  try  to  smother  me  like  a  bear  in  his 
den,  to  burn  me  alive  in  my  own  house  ?  Do 
as  I  tell  you,  or  I'll  shoot  you  now  and  roll 
your  body  in  the  riv  er !     Go  ! " 

And  hd  wenfc  as  I  asked  him.  ; : 

"Have  you  got  any  cartridges?"  I 
demanded. 

He  poin  ed  to  his  belt,  and  growled  that 
he  had  plenty.  . 

"Then  stay  there,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  I  will  do  with  you.  I  am  going  to 
empty  your  revolver,  and  you  can  have  it 
vrhen  it  is  empty.  I  will  get  off  my  hoi'se 
and  then  you  can  load  it  agaiu,  and  when  I 
see  you  have  filled  it,  you  can  do  your  best 
for  yourself.     Do  you  hear  me  ? " 

He  nodded  his  1.  ad,  and  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  me  anxiously,  as  though  not  dar- 
ing to  hope  I  was   going  to   be   so   foolish 


■r 


ill' 


238 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


■'■":■  ^   ■ 


as  my  word.  But  I  was,  even  to  the  ex- 
tent of  firing  his  revolver  into  the  air, 
though  I  had  no  suspicion  of  what  I  was 
really  doing,  nor  what  such  an  act  would 
bring  about.  . 

I  alighted  from  my  horse,  and  let  him  go, 
for  there  was  no  danger  of  his  running  away. 
I  even  struck  him  lightly,  and  sent  him  up 
the  trail  out  of  the  way  of  accident ;  and  then, 
keeping  my  own  revolver  pointed  at  Jim,  wlro 
stood  like  a  statue,  I  raised  his  in  my  ^eft 
hand.  I  fired,  and  the  reports  rang  out  over 
the  hills.  I  threw  Siwash  Jim  his  weapon, 
saying:  ■  ' 

.     "Load  the  chambers  slowly,  and  count  as 
you  do  so." 

What  a  fool  I  was,  to  be  sure,  not  to  have 
shot  him  dead  and  let  him  lie  !  Though  I 
should  not  have  been  free  from  the  dangers 
that  encompassed  me,  yet  they  would  have 
been  fewer,  far  fewer,  and  more  easily  con- 
tended with.      But  I  acted  as  Fate  would 


! 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAJ^ON.* 


239 


e  ex- 
3  air, 
I  was 
would 

lim  go, 
r  away. 
him  up 
id  then, 
im,  wVo 
my  Teft 
ut  over 
weapon, 

jount  as 

to  have 
hough  I 
dangers 
uld  have 
sily  con- 
e  would 


have,  and  even  as  I  counted  I  heard  Jim 
count  too,  in  a  strained,  hoarse  voice — one, 
two,  three,  four,  five,  six — and  he  was  an 
armed  man  again,  aimed  in  the  light,  almost 
half-way  between  us,  that  glittered  in  his 
eyes  and  fell  on  my  face.  And  it  was  his  life 
or  mine ;  his  life  that  was  worth  nothing,  and 
mine  that  was  preci(  us  with  the  possibilities 
of  love  that  I  yet  knew  not,  of  love  that  was 
hurrying  toward  me  even  then,  side  by  side 
with  hate  and  death. 

When  Jim's  weapon  was  loaded,  h-  urued 
toward  me  with  the  barrel  pointed  to  the 
ground.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  mine,  fixed 
with  a  look  of  fear  and  hatred,  but  hatred 
now  predominated.  I  lowered  my  own 
revolver  until  we  both  stood  on  equal 
terms. 

"Look,"  said  I  sternly;  "you  see  that 
burning  branch  above  the  fire.  Ifc  is  already 
half  burnt  through ;  when  it  falls,  look  out 
for  yourself." 


rfc- » 


240    Tip  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 

And  lie  stood  still,  perfectly  still,  while 
behind  and  under  him  the  flood  in  the  canon 
fretted  and  roared  menacingly,  angrily, 
hungrily,  and  the  sappy  branch  craxjked  and 
cracked  again.  It  was  bending,  bending 
slowly,  but  not  yet  falling,  when  Jim  threw  .  • 
his  weapon  up  and  fired,  treacherous  to  the 
last.  But  his  aim  was  not  sure,  no  surer 
than  mine  when  I  returned  his  shot.  A^  we 
both  fired  again,  I  felt  a  sting  in  my  left 
shoulder,  and  the  branch  fell,  slowly,  slowly — 
ah  !  as  slowly  as  Jim  did,  for  he  sank  on  his 
knees,  rolled  over  sideways,  and  slipped  back- 
ward on  the  verge  of  the  canon,  its  sloping, 
treacherous  verge.  And  as  he  slipped,  he 
caught  a  long  root  disclosed  by  the  falling 
earth,  and  with  the  last  strength  of  life  hung 
on  to  it,  a  yard  below  me,  as  I  ran  to  the 
edge,  and  stopped  there,  horror-struck.  My 
desire  for  vengeance  was  satisfied,  more  than 
satisfied,  for  if  I  could  have  restored  him  to 
solid  ground  and  life  I  would  have  done  it, 


c 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


241 


;anon 

i  and 
nding 
threw 
so  tbe 
surer 
A^  we 
ly  left 
)wly — 
on  his 
I  back- 
loping, 
led,  he 
falling 
e  hung 
to  the 
^.    My 
re  than 
him  to 
done  it, 


and  bidden  hira.  go  his  way,  so  that  I  saw 
him  no  more.  For  his  face  was  ghastly  and 
horrible  to  see;  his  lips  disclosed  his  teeth 
as  he  breathed  through  them  convulsively, 
and  his  nostrils  were  widely  distended.  I 
knelt  down  and  vainly  reached  out  my  hands. 
But  he  was  a  yard  below  me,  and  to  go  half 
that  distance  meant  death  for  me  as  well.  I 
knelt  there  and  saw  him  fail  gradually ;  his 
eyes  closed  and  opened  again  and  again ;  he 
caught  his  lower  lip  between  his  teeth  and 
bit  it  through  and  through,  and  then  his 
head  fell  back,  his  hands  relaxed,  and  he  was 
gone.  And  1  heard  the  sullen  plunge  of  his 
body  as  it  fell  three  hundred  feet  into  the 
waters  below.  I  remained  still  and  motion- 
less for  a  moment.  What  a  thing  man  was 
that  lie  should  do  such  deeds  !  I  rose,  and  a 
feeling  of  sorrow  and  remorse  for  tliis  terri- 
ble death  of  a  fello^v■creature  made  me 
stagger.  I  put  my  hand  to  my  brow,  and 
then   peered   over    the   edge   of   the   canon. 


242 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


What  was  I  looking  for?  Was  I  looking 
into  the  river  of  Fate  ?  I  took  my  revolver 
and  threw  it  into  the  canon,  that  it  should 
slay  no  other  man.  Vs  it  fell  it  struck  a 
projecting  rock,  and,  exploding,  the  echoes  in 
the  narrow  space  roared  and  thundered  up 
the  gorge  toward  the  east,  where,  just  beyond 
the  mountains,  the  first  faint  signs  of  rosy 
dawn  wero  written  upon  the  heavens.  Was 
that  an  omen  of  peace  and  love  to  me,  of  a 
fairer,  brighter  day  ?  I  lifted  my  heart 
above  and  prayed  it  might  be  so.  But  it  was 
yet  night,  still  dark,  and  the  darkest  hour  is 
before  the  dawn,  for  as  I  turned  my  back  to 
the  caiQon  and  stepped  across  to  the  fire  which 
had  lighted  pooi",  foolish,  ignorant  Jim  to  his 
death,  I  looked  up,  and  saw  before  me  the 
thin  face  I  feared  more  than  all  others,  and 
the  wicked  eyes  of  my  escaped  enemy, 
Matthias  of  the  Vancouver. 

I  have  never  believed  myself  a  coward,  for 
I  have  faced  death  too  often,  and  but  a  few 


AT    THE    BLACK    OA!TON. 


243 


minutes  ago  I  had  risked  my  life  in  a  manner 
which  few  men  would  have  imitated;  but 
I  confess  that  in  the  horrible  surprise  of 
that  moment,  in  the  strange  unexpectedness 
of  this  sudden  and  most  unlooked-for  appear- 
ance, I  was  stricken  dumb  and  motionless, 
and  stood  glaring  at  him  with  opened  eyes, 
while  my  heart's  blood  ran  cold.  For  I  was 
unarmed,  by  my  own  act  of  revulsion  and 
remorse ;  and  wounded  too,  for  I  could  feel 
the  blood  trickle  slowly  from  my  shoulder 
that  had  been  deeply  scored  by  the  second 
bullet  from  Jim's  revolver.  And  I  was  in 
the  same  position  that  I  had  put  him  in,  in  a 
clear  space  with  thick  brush  on  both  t>ides, 
through  which  there  was  no  escape,  and  in 
which  there  was  no  shelter  but  a  single  tree 
to  the  left  of  the  blazing  fire,  which  was  al- 
ready gradually  crawling  in  the  dry  brush. 
Surely  I  was  delivered  into  my  enemy's  hands, 
for  he  was  armed  and  carried  a  revolver, 
on    whose    bright    barrel   the  fire    glinted 


244 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


harshly.  How  loDg  we  stood  facing  each 
other  I  cannot  say,  but  it  seemed  hours.  If 
he  had  but  fired  then,  he  might  have  killed 
me  at  once,  for  I  was  unable  to  move ;  but 
he  diu  not  desire  that,  I  could  see  he  did  not, 
as  his  hot  eyes  devoured  me  and  gleamed 
with  a  light  of  savage  joy  and  triumph.  He 
spoke  at  last,  and  in  a  curiously  quiet  voice, 
that  was  checked  every  now  and  again  with 
a  sort  of  sob  which  made  me  shiver. 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Ticehurst,"  he  said  slowly,  "  you 
know  me  ?    You  look  as  if  you  did.     I  am 
glad  you  feel  like  that.     You  are  afraid  ! " 
I  looked  at  him  and  answered :        ,^ 
"It  is  a  He!"  ':  >    'v  1 

And  from  that  time  forward  it  was  a  lie, 
for  I  feared  no  more.  i 

"No,"  he  said,  "  I  think  not;  you  are  pale, 
and  just  now  you  shook.  I  don't  shake,  even 
after  what  I  have  been  through.  Look  at 
me!" 

He  pointed    his   weapon    at  me,  and  his 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAl^ON. 


245 


I 


)» 


pale, 
even 
>k  at 

d  his 


hand  was  as  steady  as  a  rock.  He  lowered  it 
again  and  stroked  the  barrel  softly  with  his 
lean  left  hand. 

"  You  remember  what  I  said  to  you,"  he 
went  on,  "  don't  you,  Thomas  Ticehurst  ?  I 
do,  and  I  have  kept  my  word.  Ah  !  I  have 
thought  of  tins  many  times,  many  times. 
They  tortured  me  and  treated  me  like  a  dog 
in  the  jail  you  sent  me  to;  they  beat  me, 
and  kicked  me,  and  starved  me,  but  I  never 
complained,  lest  my  time  there  should  be 
longer.  And  when  I  lay  down  at  night  I 
thought  of  the  time  when  I  should  kill  you. 
I  knew  it  would  come,  and  it  has.  But  just 
now,  when  I  saw  you  by  the  side  of  your 
own  grave,  looking  down,  I  didn't  know 
whether  it  was  you  or  the  other  man,  and  I 
thought  perhaps  he  had  killed  you.  If  it 
had  been  he,  I  would  have  killed  him." 

He  paused,  and  I  still  stood  there  with 
a  flood  of  thoughts  rushing  through  me. 
What  should  I  do  ?    If  he  had  taken  his  eyes 


246 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


off  mine  for  but  one  single  moment  I  would 
have  sprung  on  him;  but  he  did  not,  and 
while  he  talked,  I  heard  the  horses  champing 
their  bits  in  the  brush.  And  cruelest  of  all, 
my  own  horse  moved,  and  put  his  head 
through  the  branches  and  looked  at  me. 
Oh,  if  I  were  only  on  his  back  !  But  I  did 
not  speak.  v> 

"How  shall  I  kill  you?"  said  Matthias 
at  last ;  "  I  would  like  to  cut  you  to 
pieces! "  ,      . 

He  paused  again,  and  then  another  horse 
that  I  had  not  yet  seen  moved  on  the  other 
side  of  the  trail  where  he  had  come  up.  It 
had  heard  the  others,  and  I  knew  it  must  be 
the  animal  he  had  ridden.  It  came  out  of 
the  brush  into  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  I 
knew  it  was  Elsie's.  My  heart  gave  a  tre- 
mendous leap,  and  then  stood  still.  How  had 
he  become  possessed  of  it  ?  I  spoke,  and  in  a 
voice  I  could  not  recognize  as  my  own,  so 
hoarse  and  terrible  it  was. 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAS^ON. 


247 


It 

be 
of 


"  How  did  you  get  that  white  horse,  you 
villian  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  looked  at  me  fiercely  Avithout  at  first 
seeing  how  he  could  hurt  me,  and  then  a  look 
of  beast-like,  cruel  cunning  came  into  his 
eyes.  '  v  . 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  I  knew  her  !  It  was 
your  girl's  horse  !  How  did  I  get  it  ?  Per- 
haps you  would  like  to  know?  You  will 
never  see  her  again — never  !  Where  is  she 
now — where?" 

,  He  knew  as  little  as  I  did,  but  the  way  he 
spoke,  and  the  horrible  things  he  put  into  his 
voice,  made  me  boil  with  fury. 

"  You  are  a  lying  dog ! "  I  cried,  though 
he  had  said  nothing  that  I  should  be  so 
wrathful.  He  grinned  diabolically,  seeing 
how  he  had  hurt  me,  and  then  laughed  loud 
in  an  insulting,  triumphant  manner.  It  was 
too  much,  and  I  made  one  tremendous  bound 
across  the  fire,  and  landed  within  three  feet 
of  him.     He  fired  at  the  same  moment,  and 


■Sii 


248 


THE   MATE   OF  TIN:   VANCOUVEK. 


whether  he  had  wounded  me  or  not  I  did 
not  know;  but  the  I'evolver  went  spinning 
two  yards  off,  and  we  grappled  in  a  death- 
hug.  .  '  :     ■  .• 

I  have  said  that  Siwash  Jim  was  a  hard 
man  to  beat,  but  whether  it  was  that  I  ^va8 
weak  with  my  wound  or  not,  I  found  Mat- 
thias, who  was  mad  with  hate  and  fuiy,  the 
most  terrible  antagonist  I  had  ever  tackled. 
He  was  as  slippery  as  an  eel,  as  lithe  as  a 
snake,  and  withal  his  grip  was  like  that  of 
a  steel  trap.  Yet  if  I  could  but  prevent  him 
drawing  his  knife,  which  was  at  his  belt,  I 
did  not  care.  I  was  his  match  if  not  in 
agility,  at  least  in  strength,  and  I  would 
never  let  him  go.  We  were  for  one  moment 
still,  after  w^e  grappled,  and  I  trust  I  shall 
never  see  anything  that  looks  more  like  a 
devil  than  his  eyes,  in  which  the  light  of  the 
fire  shone,  while  he  gnashed  his  teeth  and 
ground  them  until  the  foam  and  saliva  oozed 
out  of    his  mouth  like  a  mad  dog's  venom. 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


249 


DOzed 
noiii. 


His  forehead  was  seamed  and  wrinkled,  bis 
clieeks  were  sucked  in  and  then  blown  out 
convulsiv^ely,  and  his  whole  aspect  was  more; 
liideous  than  that  of  a  beast  of  prey.  And 
then  the  struggle  began.  - 
„  At  first  it  was  a  trial  of  strength,  for 
u though  I  was  so  much  the  V)igger,  he  kne^v 
his  own  power  and  the  force  of  his  iron 
nerves,  and  he  hoped  to  overcome  me  thus. 
We  reeled  to  and  fro,  and  twice  went 
thiough  the  fire,  where  I  once  held  him  for 
an  instant  with  a  malicious  joy  that  was 
short-lived,  for  the  pain  added  to  his 
strength,  and  he  forced  me  backward,  until 
I  struck  the  trunk  of  the  tree  a  heavy  blow. 
Then  we  sw^ayed  hither  and  thither,  for  I 
had  him  by  the  right  w^rist  and  the  left 
shoulder,  not  daring  to  alter  my  grip  on  his 
right  hand,  lest  he  should  get  his  knife.  He 
held  me  in  the  same  w^ay,  "^and  at  last  we 
came  to  the  very  verge  of  the  canon,  and 
spurned  the  tracks  that  Jim  had  made  in  his 


ijiifffl[»iwr'*gniWf>",'' 


M',  >* 


I'-  i  i 


w 


fL 


250 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


agony.  For  a  moment  I  thought  he  would 
throw  us  both  in,  but  he  had  not  lost  h.^pe. 
If  he  had,  that  moment  would  have  been  my 
last.  In  another  second  we  had  staggered  to 
the  fire,  and  he  tried  all  his  strength  to  free 
his  right  hand.  At  last,  by  a  sudden  wrench 
he  did  it,  and  dropped  his  fingers  like  light- 
ning on  his  knife,  just  as  I  bent  his  left  wiist 
over,  and  struck  him  in  the  face  with  his 
own  clenched  hand.  We  both  went  down ; 
his  knife  ripped  my  shoulder  by  the  voiy 
place  that  Jim's  bullet  had  struck,  and  we 
roiled  over  and  over  madly  and  blindly, 
burning  ourselves  on  the  scattered  embers, 
tearing  ourselves  on  the  jagged  roots  and 
small  branches,  which  we  smashed,  as  I 
strove  to  dash  him  on  the  ground,  cind  he 
struggled  to  free  his  arm,  wLiich  I  had 
gripped  above  the  elbow,  to  end  the  battle  at 
one  blow.  But  though  he  once  drove  the 
point  more  than  an  inch  into  the  biceps,  and 
three  times  cut  me  deepl}',  he  did  not  injure 


AT    THE    BLACK    GA^ON. 


261 


UlllA 

1  my 
3d  to 
D  free 
rencli 
light- 
wi'ist 
til  his 
down ; 
^  very 
lid  we 
(lindly, 
mber^. 


:s  ai 


ad 


as 


111 


d  lie 


I  had 

lattle  at 


the 
and 


)ve 


ps, 


injure 


any  nerve  so  as  to  paralyze  the  limb.  And 
yet  I  felt  that  I  was  becoming  insensible,  so 
tremendous  was  the  strain  and  the  excite- 
ment, and  I  felt  that  I  must  make  a  last 
effort,  or  die.  Somehow  we  rose  to  our 
knees,  still  grappling,  and  if  I  looked  a  tithe 
as  horiible  as  he  did,  covered  with  blood, 
saliva,  and  sweat,  I  must  have  been  horrible 
to  see.  We  glared  in  each  other's  eyes  for  one 
moment,  and  then,  loosing  my  hold  on  his 
left  arm,  I  caught  his  right  wrist  with  both 
hands.  With  his  freed  hand  he  struck  me 
with  all  his  remaining  strength  full  in  the 
face  while  I  twisted  his  right  wrist  with  a 
force  that  should  have  broken  it,  but  "which 
only  compelled  him  to  relinquish  the  bloody 
piece  of  steel.  And  then  we  rolled  over 
again,  and  lay  locked  in  each  other's  arms. 
There  was  a  moment's  tmce,  for  human 
nature  could  not  stand  the  strain.  But  I 
think  he  believed  I  was  beaten,  and  at  his 
mercy,  for  he  was  on  top  of  me,  lying  half 


Ir'i 


262 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


across  my  breast,  with  his  face  not  six  inches 
from  mine.  He  spoke  in  a  horrible  voice, 
that  shook  with  hate  and  pain  and  triumph. 

"  I've  got  you  now — and  I'll  kill  you,  as  I 
did  your  brother  !  "  v" 

Great  God  !  then  it  was  he  who  had  done 
it,  after  all.  Better  had  it  been  for  him  to 
have  held  his  peace,  for  that  word  roused  me 
again  as  nothing  else  could  have  done,  and  I 
caught  his  throat  with  both  hands,  though 
he  struck  me  viciously.  I  held  him  as  he  lay 
on  top  of  me,  and  saw  him  die.  Then  I 
knew  no  more  for  a  little  while,  and  as  I  lay 
there  insensible,  I  still  bled. 

.What  was  it  that  called  me  to  myself? 
Whether  it  was  that  my  soul  had  gone  out 
to  meet  someone,  and  returned  in  triumph, 
for  I  awoke  with  a  momentary  feeling  of 
gladness ;  or  whether  it  was  an  unconscious 
effort  of  the  brain,  in  the  presence  of  a  new 
and  terrible  danger,  I  cannot  say.  All  I 
know  is  that,  when  that  spasm  of  joy  passed, 


4.  '■,'>j_f' 


AT    THE    BLACK    OASTON. 


263 


I  felt  weak  and  unable  to  move  under  the 
weight  of  Matthias,  whose  protruding  eyes 
and  tongue  mocked  at  me  hideously  in  death, 
as  though  his  revenge  was  even  now  being 
accomplished;  and  I  saw  the  fiery  brush 
creeping  across  the  space  that  lay  between 
me  and  the  fire  Jim  had  kindled  at  my  bid- 
ding. Was  I  to  die  by  fire  at  the  last,  when 
that  horrible  night  was  passing  and  the 
dawn  was  already  breaking  on  the  eastern 
horizon?  For  I  could  not  stir,  my  limbs 
were  like  lead,  my  heart  beat  feebly,  and  my 
feet  were  cold.  I  lay  glaring  at  the  fire,  and, 
as  I  did  so,  I  saw  that  the  revolver  I  had 
struck  out  of  Matthias's  hand  was  lying  as 
far  ,from  the  fire  as  the  fire  was  from  me. 
How  is  it  th^t  there  is  such  a  clear  intellect 
at  times^in  the  very  presence  of  death?  I 
saw  then  that  the  shots  I  had  fii*ed  from  that 
weapon  had  brought  my  enemy  up  just  in 
time,  for  otherwise  he  might  have  been 
wearied  out  or  lost ;  and  now  I  thought  if  I 


264 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


could  only  get  to  it,  to  fire  it,  I  might  thus 
bring  help :  for  what  enemies  had  I  left  now 
save  the  crawling  fire  ?  I  might  even  bring 
Elsie.  But  then,  how  did  the  dead  villain 
who  lay  across  me,  choking  me  still,  get  her 
horse,  and  what  had  happened  to  her  in  his 
hands !  I  tried  to  scream,  and  I  sighed  as 
softly  as  the  vague  wind  which  was  impel- 
ling the  slow  fires  tov  ard  me.  How  near 
they  came  ! — how  near — and  nearer  yet,  like 
serpents  rearing  their  heads,  spitting  vi- 
ciously as  they  came  ?  And  then  I  thought 
how  slow  they  were ;  why  did  they  not  come 
and  end  it  at  once,  and  let  me  die  ?  And  I 
looked  at  the  fires  again.  They  were  within 
two  feet  of  me,  I  could  feel  the  heat,  and 
within  eighteen  inches  of  the  revolver.  I 
was  glad,  and  watched  it  feverishly.  But 
then  the  weapon's  muzzle  was  pointed  almost 
at  me.  Suppose  it  exploded,  and  shot  me 
dead  as  it  called  for  help !  How  strange  it 
was !     I  put  up  my  hands  feebly  and  tried 


Si  \ 


AT    THE    BLACK    CA^ON. 


25o 


to  move  the  dead  body,  so  as  to  screen  my- 
self. I  might  as  well  have  tried  to  uproot  a 
tree,  for  I  could  barely  move  my  hands.  I 
looked  at  the  fire  again  as  it  crawled  on  and 
on,  now  wavering,  now  staying  one  moment 
to  lift  up  its  thousand  little  crests  and 
vicious  eyes,  and  then  stooping  to  lick  up  the 
grass  and  the  dried  brush  on  which  I  lay. 
But  as  I  glared  at  it  intently,  at  last  it 
reached  the  weapon,  and  coiled  round  it 
triumphantly  as  though  that  had  been  its 
goal,  licking  it  round  and  round.  Would 
the  flames  heat  the  cartridges  enough,  and  if 
they  did,  where  would  the  bullets  go?  I 
asked  that  deliriously,  for  I  was  in  a  fever, 
and  instead  of  being  cold  at  heart,  the  blood 
ran  through  me  like  fire.  I  thought  I  began 
to  feel  the  fire  that  was  so  close  to  me.  I 
heard  the  explosion  of  the  heated  weapon. 
I  was  yet  alive.  "  Come,  Elsie  !  come,  if 
you  are  not  dead — come  and  save  me — 
come ! "    I  thought  I  cried  out  loudly,  but 


256 


thp:  mate  of  the  vancouvek. 


not  even  her  ear,  that  heard  a  sharper  sound 
afar,  could  have  caught  tnat.  Once  more  and 
once  again  the  cartridges  fired,  and  I  heai'd  a 
crash,  saw  a  horse  burst  like  a  flame  through 
the  black  brush,  and  there  was  a  white  thing 
before  my  eyes.  I  looked  up  and  saw  Elsie, 
my  own  true  love  after  all,  and  then  I 
fainted  dead  away,  and  did  not  recover  until 
long,  long  after.  ;  -       . 

I  ask  myself  sometimes  even  now,  when 
those  hours  that  were  burnt  into  my  soul 
return  to  my  sight  like  an  old  brand  coming 
out  on  the  healed  flesh  when  it  is  struck 
sudden  and  sharply,  whether,  after  all,  my 
enemy  had  been  balked  of  his  revenge.  To 
die  one  death  and  go  into  oblivion  is  the  lot 
of  all  who  face  the  rising  sun,  and,  after  a 
while,  veil  their  eyes  when  its  last  fires  sink 
in  the  western  sea.  But  I  suffered  ten 
thousand  deaths  by  violence,  by  cruel  ambush 
and  torture,  by  crawling  flames  and  flashing 
knives  in  the  interval  between  my  rescue  and 


AT    THE    BLACK    OA^ON. 


267 


)und 
s  and 
ard  a 
ough 
thing 
Elsie, 
len   I 
'  until 

wlien 
y  soul 
oming 
struck 

11,  my 
To 
tlie  lot 
after  a 
es  sink 
ed  ten 
imbusli 
lashing 
jue  and 


my  recovery  from  the  fever  that  my  wounds 
and  the  horror  of  it  all  brought  upon  me. 
They  told  me — Elsie  herself  told  me — that  I 
lay  raving  only  ten  days;  but  it  seemed 
incredible  to  me,  as  I  shook  my  head  in  a 
vague  disbelief  that  made  them  fear  for  my 
reason.  If  I  had  been  in  the  care  of  strangers 
who  were  unfamiliar  to  me,  I  might  have 
thought  myself  a  worn-out  relic  of  some  dead 
and  buried  era,  whose  monuments  had 
crumbled  slowly  to  ashes  in  the  very  fires 
through  which  my  soul  had  passed,  shrieking 
for  the  forgetful  dead  I  had  loved.  But 
though  I  saw  her  only  vaguely  like  a  spirit 
in  clouds,  or  knew  her,  without  sight  as  I  lay 
half  unconscious,  as  a  beneficent  presence 
only,  I  grew  gradually  to  feel  that  Elsie,  who 
still  lived  after  the  centuries  of  my  delirium, 
loved  me  with  the  passion  I  had  felt  for  her. 
I  say  had  felt,  for  I  was  like  a  child,  and  my 
desire  for  her  was  scarcely  more  than  a 
pathetic  longing  for  tenderness  of  thought 


■>l-9 


258 


THE  MATE  OP  THE  VANCOUVER. 


and  touch,  until  the  great  strength  which  had 
been  my  pride  returned  in  a  flood  and 
brought  passion  with  it  once  more. 

How  strangely  that  came  to  pass  which 
I  had  foretold  in  my  last  talk  with  Elsie ! 
I  had  said,  angrily — for  I  was  angered — 
that  she  should  one  day  speak  to  me,  though 
she  swore  she  would  not,  and  that  she  should 
implore  my  pardon.  And  she  did  it,  she  who 
had  been  so  strong  and  self-contained,  in  the 
meekest  and  dearest  way  the  thoughts  of  a 
maiden  could  devise.  And  then  she  asked 
me  if  I  would  marry  her?  Would  I  marry 
her  ?  I  stared  at  her  in  astonishment,  not  at 
her  asking,  for  it  seemed  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world  for  her  to  do,  but  at  the 
idiocy  of  the  question.  "  I  do  believe  you 
love  me,  Elsie,"  I  said  at  last, "  for  I  have 
heard  that  love  makes  the  most  sensible 
people  quite  stupid.  If  you  were  in  your 
right  senses,  dear,  you  would  not  have  asked 
it " 


AT    THE    BLACK    CAITON. 


269 


"  I  should  think  not,  indeed  ! "  she  broke 
in.     But  she  smiled  tenderly. 

"  Because  you  know    very    well    that  I 
settled  that  long  enough  ago,  on  board  the 
Vancouver^''  I  said  stoutly. 
'  "Then    I    had    no    voice  in   it?"  Elsie 
said. . '.  .  --  ;:„-■-/■:•; 

-   "Not  the  least,  I  assure  you  !    I  made  up 
my  mind." 

"  And  so  did  I,"  said  Elsie,  softly.      ^ 
"What  do  you  mean,  dear  ?  "  .    /   : 

She  leant  her  head  against  my  shoulder, 
and  against  my  big  beard,  and  whis- 
pered: 

•  "  I  made  up  my  mind,  dear  Tom,  that  if 
you  .didn't  love  me,  I  would  never  love  any- 
one else,  but  go  and  be  a  nun  or  a  nurse  all 
my  life.  And  that's  why  I  was  so  hard,  you 
know ! " 

Yes,  I  knew  that  well  enough. 

And  where  was  Helen,  meantime  ?    I  am 


, 


260 


THE  MATE  OF  THE  VANCOUVER. 


drawing  so  near  the  end  of  my  story  that 
I  must  say  what  I  have  to  in  a  few  words. 
She  had  remained  at  the  ranch  until  the 
doctor  had  declared  I  was  going  to  recover 
(it  was  no  fault  of  his  that  I  did),  and  then 
she  went  away.  What  she  told  Elsie  I  have 
never  known,  nor  shall  I  ever  ask ;  but  they 
parted  good  friends — yes,  the  best  of  friends 
— and  she  returned  home  to  Melbc  rne.  I 
never  saw  her  again,  at  least  not  to  my 
knowledge,  although  once,  when  Elsie  and  I 
were  both  in  that  city — for  I  returned  to  my 
profession — I  thought,  nay,  for  the  moment  I 
made  sure,  that  she  had  come  to  know  of  our 
presence  there.  For  Elsie  had  presents  of 
fruit  and  flowers  almost  every  day  she  was  at 
Melbourne.  I  part  with  her  now  with  a 
strange  regret,  and  somehow  I  have  never 
confessed  to  anyone  that  I  was  very  vexed 
at  her  not  waiting  until  I  was  well  enough 
to  recognize  her  before  she  went.  For,  you 
see,  she  loved  me. 


\ 


^' 


AT    THE    BLACK    OAt^TON. 


261 


But — and  this  is  the  last — the  time  came 
when  I  was  a>)]e  to  go  out  with  Elsie  and 
Fanny,  and  though  we  rode  slowly,  it  did  not 
need  rapid  motion  to  exhilarate  me  when  she 
was  by  my  side.  As  for  Fanny,  she  used  to 
lose  us  in  the  stupidest  way,  just  as  if  she 
had  not  been  brought  up  in  the  bush,  and 

i  been  able  to  follow  a  trail  like  a  black  fellow. 
But  when  Harmer  came  out  on  Sundays,  it 
was  we  who  lost  them,  for  Fanny  used  to  go 
off  at  full  speed,  while  Jack,  who  never  got 
used  to  a  horse  for  many  months,  used  to 
risk  his  neck  to  keep  up  with  her.  Then  she 
used  to  annoy  him  at  night  by  offering  him 
the  softest  seat,  which  he  stoutly  refused, 
preferring  to  suffer  untold    tortures  on    a 

.  wooden  stool,  rather  than  confess.  But  I 
don't  think  they  will  ever  imitate  us,  who 
got  manied  at  last  in  the  autumn  at 
Thomson  Forks.  I  invited  almost  every- 
one I  knew  to  the  weddings  and  I  made  Mac 
my  chief   man,  much  to  Jack's  disgust.     I 


262 


THE  MATE  OF  THE   VANCOUVER. 


fee  ^f«  fi 


0*  it  -'I- I*-* 


would  even  have  invited  Montana  Bill,  but 
he  was  lying  in  the  hospital  with  a  bullet  in 
his  shoulder;  while  Hank  Patterson  could 
not  come  on  account  of  the  police  wanting 
him  for  putting  it  there.  But  half  the 
population  of  the  Forks  had  bad  headaches 
next  day ;  and  if  I  didn't  have  to  wear  my 
right  hand  in  a  sling  on  account  of  the 
shaking  it  got,  it  was  because  I  was  as  strong 
as  ever.  The  only  man  who  looked  unhappy 
was  Mr.  Fleming,  and  he  certainly  had  a 
right  to  be  miserable,  considering  that  I  had 
robbed  him  of  his  housekeeper,  leaving  him 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  flighty  Fanny. 
And  she  was  so  vicious  to  poor  Jack  that  he 
actually  dared  to  say  to  me,  "  that  if  Elsie 
had  the  temper  of  her  sister,  he  was  sorry 
for  me,  and  that  it  was  a  pity  Siwash  Jim  and 
Mat  had  made  a  mess  of  it."  When  I 
rebuked  him,  he  said  merrily,  "  he  guessed  it 
was  a  free  country,  and  not  the  poop  of  the 
Vancouver"    So  I  let  him  alone,  being  quite 


lir. 


AT    THE    BLACK    OAl^ON. 


968 


convinced  then,  and  I  have  never  changed 
my  opinion  since,  though  we  have  been 
married  almost  five  years,  that  Elsie 
Ticehurst  is  the  best  wife  a  man  ever  had, 
and  worth  fighting  for,  even  against  tlie 
world. 


THE     END. 


